Flashback
by anonsensicalgirl
Summary: "I think we're dealing with a vigilante." A figure from Gotham's future finds herself maneuvering in a world that isn't hers yet. Set (vaguely) between 4x15 and 4x20. Mostly canon-compliant.
1. Chapter 1

_**So, this is mostly canon-complaint for Gotham, but not necessarily for the comics, as I don't see the future of the characters in show (as they've been established) completely aligning with their comics counterparts. Also…the batfam just deserves to be happy, okay? This is probably the most self-indulgent thing I've ever written, but in the immortal words of Lina Lamont, "If we bring a little joy into your humdrum lives, it makes us feel as though our hard work ain't been in vain for nothin'. Bless you all."**_

* * *

"I think we're dealing with a vigilante."

James Gordon closed his eyes and tried not to sigh at Harvey Bullock's words. _Of course they were_. But if he was honest with himself, there was a small tinge of relief in his sigh. If there had to be a new player in the circus that was the Gotham underworld, one with any kind of morality—no matter how shaky—had to be better than what usually got dredged up.

"Description?" he asked.

Harvey looked at his notepad. "Female, about 5'7''. Witness says she had dark hair, black mask. Used a crossbow, of all things. Stopped a robbery at a convenience store in minutes." He flipped back the page. "Sounds like the same girl from two nights ago."

"The one who stopped the mugging?"

"Yeah. Both incidents were in the Narrows. Think that gives us a clue?"

"I don't know." The girl, whoever she was, was good. That's what worried him—this wasn't some clumsy do-gooder with more good intentions than skills. The would-be robbers of the convenience store had been incapacitated and _handcuffed_ by the time the GCPD had arrived. The injuries the three men had sustained had only been serious enough to render them helpless, without causing lasting damage.

"Keep an eye out on this one, Harvey. We've already got our hands full with Jerome, but we don't want this to blow up in our faces." He sighed. Honestly, they never could catch a break in this city, could they?

* * *

The thing was, she hadn't meant to get back into the crime-fighting business.

At least, not here. Not now. Her very existence was already risky enough. But time spent isolated in the small, one-room hole she'd spent the past couple of days in had posed another risk—that of complete and utter boredom. She'd kept a low profile, lifting the wallets of those who looked like they could afford it in order to pay for her room and other necessities, until she was able to siphon off some funds from Wayne Enterprises. She'd probably get grounded for that in another thirty years, but that didn't seem like too bad of a consequence. At least it meant she'd be back home. At any rate, she hadn't meant to stop the mugging…or the robbery. At least she told herself that, but maybe it was a lie. After all, when she'd seen that old crossbow in that dilapidated store in the Narrows…well, she hadn't been able to help herself. She'd missed holding her own.

And then she'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and years of training had kicked in. How could she stand by when someone else was getting hurt? She hadn't been able to help herself after that. She told herself she wouldn't go out every night, that one wrong move could change everything about her life—maybe even the city itself. But until she found a way to get home she was adrift, purposeless. And though a part of her wanted nothing more than to run all the way to Wayne Manor, find the bedroom that would one day be hers, and cry into a pillow, she knew that was impossible.

The whole sorry mess had started when she'd made a stupid decision anyway, and she had no desire to repeat that mistake. She hadn't even been on patrol when it had happened. She'd been out shopping for a present for Jason for his birthday when she'd gotten the alert of an anomaly behind the courthouse- a small spike in radiation. She hadn't thought twice about checking it out, even if it was three o'clock in the afternoon and she was in street clothes. But she was in the area anyway, and when she'd gotten there what she had found hadn't seemed too troubling.

And now she was stuck thirty years in the past, in a Gotham that wasn't _her_ Gotham, spending her days staring at small, broken device and reading outdated books from the library on time travel. So far all information she'd garnered from that source on traveling through time was to _not do it_.

Not very helpful at this point.

She glanced at the object on the wooden desk in the room. It was the only piece of furniture besides a small lumpy bed and a sunbleached nightstand with a wobbly leg. She still hadn't entirely figured out just what had sent her back. The device was small and round, with a small removable handle on one side not unlike the end of a key, and a larger handle on the other side. At first, she'd thought it was some sort of bomb, judging from the digital clock on the front, with a switch underneath it between two arrows. It was a good thing it _hadn't_ been a bomb, because she'd accidentally joggled the handle.

Two minutes and a pounding migraine later, she'd ended up here.

Since then, she'd taken apart the thing, trying to understand why it hadn't taken her back after she'd toggled the switch to the arrow pointing forward and twisted the handle again. Amidst the tangle of wires, she'd discovered that its power source—a small, glowing purple stone held between metal prongs—had shattered.

She had no idea how to put it together again. She collapsed back onto the bed, deciding that it was time to take riskier moves. When she'd hoped to be here only a few hours—maybe a day or two—at most, the Narrows had seemed low profile enough to keep her out of any trouble. But with no hope in sight, she was going to have to make changes. There was no way she could continue leaving her flat with her crossbow and the device behind. She shuddered to think of the device getting stolen. Heck, it might even be worse if someone got to everything that she'd had in her backpack when she'd gotten sent through. Her laptop. Her wallet and I.D. The creased photo from the Christmas she was eight, when she'd instigated a sword fight among her siblings using empty wrapping paper tubes.

Helena Wayne had always thought of herself as an independent person, but suddenly, being truly alone, she realized how much she had relied on the support of the people in her life. How much she needed them.

But her family, the way she knew them, didn't exist yet.

And attempting to contact them just might ensure that that family never existed at all.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day Helena and her duffle bag (acquired through means she doubted her father would approve of at any point in his life) were safely ensconced in a quiet apartment that gave her a good eye on the city. She'd been unable to fix the stone, but surely it couldn't have been the _only_ piece of…whatever it was…that existed. She just hoped it wasn't alien.

At any rate, sneaking into Wayne Enterprises had to be easier now than it would be in the future. If she could hack into the tech division's computers, she figured she might be able to find something about the mysterious stone.

She knew the ins and outs of the place—the building's layout hadn't changed much over the years—but she had needed to ascertain current security, which warranted a closer look. She'd gotten herself some supplies to disguise herself enough to get in. She hadn't been sure how much she should change her appearance. Sure, she resembled both her parents, but even in Gotham, it wasn't like people were going around expecting to bump into their future offspring.

Still, sneaking in required some sort of physical alteration—straightened hair, a change in makeup—the little things always added up, and she hadn't planned on being memorable anyway. Very few people noticed the staff, especially the janitorial staff. At least, Bruce Wayne _wouldn't_ have noticed her had she not spilled cleaner on the floor the moment she'd seen him in the hallway.

"Are you all right?" He'd asked, putting hand on her arm and helping her up after she'd knelt to the grown to pick up her mop. "Here let me—"

"Oh, no, I'm fine," she'd said quickly, glancing up at the two men he had been walking with, both with official-looking name tags and serious faces. She didn't recognize them, so they were certainly long gone from the company by the time she would walk these halls. "There's no need, really, Mr. Wayne. I'm sorry." She'd hoped her nervousness had come off as that of a lowly underling suddenly noticed by the king, and not anything suspicious. She glanced up at him, and as soon as he saw her eyes she noticed a strange flicker in his own- half confusion, half recognition.

"Do I know you?" He took a small step back. "I'm sorry, you just look a little familiar."

"Oh, I get that all the time." Helena said, gathering her emotions. "I just…have one of those kinds of faces, I guess." She shrugged, her arms full of cleaning supplies.

"Well, I'll leave you to it." He gave a small smile and a nod of the head before leaving.

 _Idiot, Idiot, Idiot,_ she told herself. Not only was speaking to her father in general a Bad Thing, but now he was certain to remember her face.

* * *

Helena unscrewed the electric lock outside the back door of the building and with a few alterations to the wires, got it open. There was only one camera down this hall, but it wasn't as effective as the ones in the future—she could easily bypass it simply by sliding underneath it, her back to the wall. She peeked around to the security office, where two men were watching the security cams. They didn't seem particularly enthralled. Normally, Helena would have had Barbara or Tim to help freeze the video screens, but she was on her own with this one, without any of the equipment she would need to do it on her own. Heck, half the technology she was accustomed to using didn't even exist yet. She rolled the small homemade gas grenade she'd made earlier into the room and shut the door. She heard a yell, and then silence. It would only knock them out for a couple of hours, but she figured it would be enough time get to the tech division and back.

Making her way through the halls and up to the higher levels of the building, she was almost worried at the lack of obstacles. Her dad really needed better security in this place.

It took only moments to find her way to the nearest computer in her dad's office (Was it her dad's yet? Well, it would be one day. She'd hidden under the desk enough times to know) and plug in the flashdrive she'd brought with her from the future. It was compatible with older systems, but it made it easier for her to hack into even the most secure servers. This dated computer security was a breeze. She bit her lip and glanced behind her as the info downloaded. As soon as it was completed, she leapt from the chair and was about to leave the room when she heard voices. She dropped to the ground as two security guards walked by, chatting softly. They were heading to the direction of the office she'd gassed. It was maybe a minute until they'd sound the alarm, and she did not need the GCPD on her back. As soon as the men were out of sight, she slipped out of the room and off to the service stairwell. Getting out of the building from the roof had always been her first choice. She climbed onto the roof and got out her grappling hook from her bag.

"What are you doing?"

Helena spun in time to see a dark figure a few feet away from her on the roof. He was slight, maybe only a few inches taller than she was, and dressed in all black. A mask covered his face. If she didn't know better, she'd have thought—

"What were you doing in Wayne Enterprises?" He asked, taking a step closer.

She stuffed the grappling hook back into her bag and ran. Helena glanced back, wondering if he was keeping up. Taking a deep breath, she leapt across from the roof and caught the edge of the fire escape on the next building. Pulling herself up, she climbed down the flimsy ladder and leapt to the ground. She looked upward, but instead of jumping after her, he'd somehow already made it to the bottom of the building. _How did he even-?_ She didn't stop to wonder. She just ran.

He was able to keep up. _Darn it_. Though Helena had no doubt she could take the kid in a fight, she didn't want to. She was nervous. _Please don't be him_ , she thought, even as she knew it was. em _Please don't be him_./em She glanced behind and didn't see him. She turned a corner and ran smack-dab into a hard body. Caught off guard, she fell to the ground. His fingers had caught up the edge of her ski mask, and the force of her fall assisted her pursuer in flipping it up, exposing her face. Her hair was loose now. She flipped her head up to get it out of her eyes.

"You," he said. "You were here earlier today."

She held up her hands as she rose from the ground. "I don't want to hurt you."

"What were you doing in Wayne Enterprises?"

"What's it to you?"

"You're breaking and entering."

"I'm not a criminal," Helena said. "Well, not usually." She sighed. "Look, I didn't take anything. I just needed to check something out. Just let me go, and there won't be any trouble."

"Who are you working for? Penguin? Barbara Kean?" His eyes darkened. "Jerome?"

"What? No! I'm not working for anybody."

"Then you can tell me what you're doing."

"If you don't ask me what I'm doing, then I won't ask what you're doing, _Mr. Wayne_."

He stiffened.

"You can take off the mask. I know it's you. Who else would be stupid enough to run around after dark apprehending criminals?" She mumbled the last sentence so he couldn't hear it.

He pulled off his mask and Helena could see his face in the orange glow of the streetlight. He looked so impossibly _young_. A lot like Damian, she thought. She could see traces of the father she knew, but it was more like meeting a completely different person. He seemed so much _smaller_. This wasn't the man who had read her every book of _The Chronicles of Narnia_ every night before bed, or the man who taught her how to throw a punch but also bribed her into watching old black-and-white movies with him until she learned to love them like he did.

"Having a problem, B?"

Both Bruce and Helena's gaze shot up to see a leather-clad figure perched on a windowsill a few feet above their heads.

"Not now, Selina," Bruce said, turning back to Helena. "She was sneaking into Wayne Enterprises."

"Out of," Helena corrected. "You caught me sneaking _out_ of the building. There's a difference. Maybe I just…napped in a corner during my break and forgot to leave." She shrugged. "It happens."

"She's the girl who stopped the robbery yesterday, so I doubt she's a hardened criminal." Selina hopped to the ground and glanced at Helena. "I mean, that's what I'm assuming. You match the description." At Helena's look, she pointed to the weapon on Helena's back. "Crossbow. If you're trying to be discreet, maybe pick a more subtle weapon."

"Was that you?" Bruce asked.

Helena shrugged, trying to show nonchalance. "I was bored. Seemed a good way to pass the time."

"If you're _catching_ criminals, then why are you dressed like a burglar and breaking into secure facilities?" Bruce asked.

"Really?" Selina took a step closer to him as she looked him up and down. "You're the one asking this?"

"This is my family's company, Selina. I'm only trying to protect it."

They stared each other down.

Helena folded her arms. "Gosh. Just kiss already."

Both of them turned to glare at her, and it was so ridiculously and incongruously _parental_ that Helena almost smiled.

Almost.

"Interrogate her, fine. But don't bring the police into this." Selina said, turning to face Bruce.

"I wasn't planning to. But—" Bruce began, turning to confront Helena.

But Helena was already gone. The breaking in? That was all her mother. But the disappearing into thin air? Dad had taught her that.

* * *

*I know that at this point Bruce hasn't seemed to be engaging in his vigilante activities lately, but it seemed like too good of an opportunity to pass up.


	3. Chapter 3

Helena awoke with a start and her feet hit the floor. She took two steps before realizing where she was. For one befuddling moment she had been five years old again, springing out of bed after a nightmare to find her parents…

 _Helena blinked in the darkness, suddenly thrust out of dreaming fear. Her heart was racing, and all she wanted was her mother. Slipping out of bed, her feet pattered down the dark hall. The door to her parents' bedroom was cracked open, and she could see light from underneath the door. She peeked into the room and creaked the door open in time to see her mother walk out of the bathroom, wearing one of Dad's shirts and toweling her wet hair._

 _"Helena," she said. "Why aren't you asleep?"_

 _"I had a bad dream."_

 _"Ah." Mom threw the towel back into the bathroom before moving to sit on the bed. She gave a tired smile and patted the covers next to her._

 _Helena didn't need any more encouragement; she flew threw the room and landed on the bed. Mom lifted the covers and Helena slid under them, snuggling up next to her. Mom kissed the top of her head. "What was it about this time, kitten?"_

 _Helena shrugged. "I don't know." Helena never remembered her nightmares; she only woke up shaking and scared. Maybe one day, when she was a grown-up, she'd grow out of them. Her nightmares were like dark, shadowy shapes that loomed in her consciousness at night. When she awoke, she knew that something had been chasing her. Something was out to get her. She just never knew what._

 _"That's all right." Mom ran her fingers through Helena's curls absent-mindedly. Helena only had a vague idea of what her parents did at night, but she always knew when it hadn't gone well. Even as her mother smiled encouragingly, Helena knew that something else was on her mind._

 _The water had stopped running in the bathroom, and her dad appeared in the room, pulling a shirt over his head. Not before Helena saw the bruises on his back or the exhaustion in his eyes, though._

 _"Bad dream," Mom said, answering Dad's questioning glance at Helena._

 _He nodded and climbed in on the opposite side of the bed with a groan, closing his eyes. Helena climbed on over to him and got close to his face, giving him a kiss on the cheek. He smiled with his eyes closed and patted her back._

 _"Did the bad men hurt you?" she asked quietly. She knew her dad got hurt sometimes, even though he tried to hide it._

 _He opened his eyes and looked at her for a long moment. "No," he finally said. He glanced at Mom before looking back at Helena, as if wondering how much he should share. "But they did hurt someone else."_

 _Helena hugged him, and he squeezed her back tightly for a moment before releasing her. She sat back up. "Can I sleep with you tonight?"_

 _Dad looked at Mom, who nodded. Helena gave her mother a kiss as her dad turned off the light._

 _"Good night, Mama. Love you."_

 _"Love you too." She could hear the smile in her mother's voice, a real smile. Mom leaned over her to give Dad a quick kiss before the both of them settled back down on either side of Helena, who could no longer remain scared of the monsters that haunted her. How could she, when her parents were right there?_

Helena sighed and glanced at the clock. _4:45_. Instead of crawling back into bed, she started the coffee pot and pulled out her desk drawer to get her laptop. She'd already begun combing through lab records, searching for anything that might put her in the direction of getting home. She didn't narrow it down to just the glowing rock in her purse, either. If her dad's companies were doing anything with time travel, she'd know about it within minutes.

She didn't find anything to do with that, but after two hours of records-searching, she found a document for CLASSIFIED Asset #329.

Material: unknown

Properties: emits scant amount of radiation

Appearance: Roughly 3 centimeters in length and 2 millimeters in width. Purple.

Obtained: Portugal

Location: Gotham

Staus: inactive

 _Hmmm._ She looked at the crushed pieces of the object that she'd kept in a small bag. Though she didn't know what it had looked like originally, the photo attached to the file looked promising. It was certainly the closest thing she'd found to it so far.

Helena bit her lip. She needed to pull a heist.

And she needed help.

It wasn't that she _couldn't_ do it alone, exactly. It was just that she usually didn't do that sort of stuff without any kind of backup or support. She didn't know the territory well. The lab was in a different location here—sixteen years from now it would be moved into a shiny new building with high-tech security that would be a pain for even her mother to break into. Now it was certain to be easier. But it was also in a building she knew nothing about, and she'd already gotten herself recognized.

But then again, if her parents already knew her face anyway….

* * *

It had taken Helena half the day to track down Selina Kyle's apartment. It was funny, she thought, about how much she assumed she'd always known about her parents. But now, here, she realized she didn't even know where her mom lived as a teenager. Of course, gathering from what Helena did know, Selina had hopped around a lot, so maybe that wasn't surprising. Her current residence was only a couple blocks from Helena's old Narrows apartment.

She stood for a long second at the door before knocking. A moment more and she might have changed her mind. There was no answer, so she knocked again.

She heard a number of locks on the other side, and the door cracked open.

"Miss Kyle?" Helena asked. She'd made herself think of the two of them as Selina and Bruce, rather than Mom or Dad. She didn't want any slip-ups. Although, to be honest, it had been easier than she thought. The fact that they looked so different probably had something to do with it.

Selina's brows furrowed together. "What are you doing here? How'd you even get this address?"

"I have a proposition for you."

"Not interested." She started to close the door.

"I've got money," Helena said quickly. "You haven't even heard my offer yet. I'll make it worth your while." She didn't manage to get the last word out before the door shut in her face. "I'll pay you." She tried again, talking up against the door. "I heard you were the best," she said. "The best and getting in and out of places without being seen."

There was no answer. She groaned and leaned against the door as she sank to the ground. _It was a stupid idea anyway_ , she thought. Well, she'd already committed to it. Selina would have to leave sometime. Helena sat down and prepared to wait.

It didn't take long.

Ten minutes later the door creaked open.

"You're still here." Selina said without surprise. She opened the door wider. "Come in, then."

Helena hopped up and followed her into the apartment. It wasn't a bad place, all things considered. Selina was working with Barbara Kean and Tabitha Galavan at this point, Helena remembered. She wondered how much money that made.

"I need your services," Helena began. "I've heard about you. I think you can help me, and I can help you."

"I'm listening." Selina crossed her arms and leaned against the armrest of the tattered sofa in the room.

"I need to break into one of Wayne Enterprise's labs. I've got the blueprints to the building, I know where the item is being held, it shouldn't be difficult. I just need a partner to help me."

A raised brow was all the reaction this drew from Selina. "Wayne Enterprises? You're nuts." She stood up straight and walked towards the kitchenette, where she poured herself a glass of milk.

"A thousand bucks says I'm really not," Helena said, raising her head slightly so she could see into the kitchen.

"You want something to drink?" Selina asked. "Water? Milk? Tea?"

Helena blinked at the change in conversation. "Uhhh…tea, I guess."

"This thing you're stealing," Selina said, pouring hot water into a mug, "what is it?"

"I'm not sure exactly. I mean, it's some sort of mineral, I think. It looks like a type of rock, but it's purple and it glows." She shrugged.

"Oh. So normal for Gotham them," Selina said, a bit sarcastically. "Here." She handed the mug of tea to Helena, who took it gratefully.

"Thanks." She took a sip.

"Who are you working for?"

"Excuse me?"

"You said you didn't know what it was, so I'm assuming you've been hired." Selina looked at her like she was an idiot. "Who hired you? Do you have a client?"

"Not exactly. I-I—?" Why did she need it? The story she'd come up with to explain her interest in the labs had suddenly flown from her head, and she couldn't remember a thing. Suddenly Helena found she couldn't think. "I don't feel—" she glanced down into her mug, and then back at Selina. "You—you—" All she could do was look at her mother in disbelief.

Selina grabbed the mug just before Helena dropped it and fell back onto the couch, unconscious.


	4. Chapter 4

_Helena threw on a pair of shorts and a tank top and rushed down the stairs. She slid into the kitchen in her socks to grab a bagel and walked in on her parents kissing._

 _"Ugh, you guys are so gross." She made an exaggerated gagging noise and opened the fridge to get some cream cheese._

 _Mom pulled away from Dad to swat Helena on the arm. "You know, you wouldn't be here if we weren't so gross."_

 _Helena shuddered. "Thanks, Mom. You just made it worse." She shoved the bagel in her mouth and opened the back door, her shoes in hand. "I'm running late. See you later!"_

 _"Where are you going?" Dad asked, leaning to see out the door._

 _"Running!" she said around the bagel. "Meeting with Kara at the park."_

 _"Be safe!" Dad said, as if she didn't do a million more dangerous things every day of her life. Of course, she was only sixteen, and she guessed all dads worried about their teenage daughters. Her mom worried less, but lately Helena had begun to wonder if maybe her mother was just better at hiding that worry than Dad was._

 _Of course, she supposed any parent would have been apprehensive after what had happened last week. She'd gotten cornered while on patrol, and if Dad hadn't shown up in the nick of time, she probably wouldn't have been running –or walking—at all._

 _"You shouldn't have left Dick," Dad had said when they got back to the cave, his voice still in his Batman growl._

 _"I was fine, Dad!"_

 _"You almost died!"_

 _The worst part was, it hadn't been an exaggeration. Helena had crossed her arms and pretended that his words were silly, that they didn't matter, but the truth was, she'd gotten in way over her head and she knew it. She knew she was only sixteen. But her siblings? They'd all been given much more freedom at that age than she ever had. Maybe it came with being the baby of the family; she didn't know. But she'd tried to go at it alone, and this had happened. So much for proving herself._

 _"You got there in time," Mom said to Dad, placing herself in the conversation. "All of us need backup sometimes. And it is time Helena was given more responsibility."_

 _"And she'll get it, when she knows that facing twelve armed men by herself is not something she's ready for!"_

 _Mom put her hand on Dad's arm, and Helena saw a fraction of the tension leave his body. Not all of it, but some._

 _Helena looked away, not wanting to meet his eyes. "I'm sorry."_

 _"We'll discuss this tomorrow," Mom said. She patted Dad's arm. "You need to get to bed. You've gotten three hours of sleep in the past two days."_

 _"Selina—"_

 _"I'm not arguing with you."_

 _Dad nodded and left towards the showers._

 _Helena turned to go upstairs. Dad hadn't even looked at her before she left, and somehow that hurt._

 _"Wait."_

 _Helena stopped and turned at her mother's voice._

 _"Your father's right, Helena."_

 _Helena groaned. "_ Mom _—"_

 _"Don't "_ Mom _" me," she said. She took Helena by the shoulders, and Helena saw something in her eyes that she hadn't before. Fear. Her mother had been_ scared _. Mom never let anyone see when she was scared. Somehow this was worse than Dad's anger._

 _"That was too close of a call. You're not ready for that yet."_

 _"But Mom, Dad's just—"_

 _"Don't you dare call your father overprotective, not when he's letting you go out like this in the first place. Normal parents don't."_

 _"No one ever accused us of being normal."_

 _Her mother's face softened. "No." She hesitated a moment and then pulled Helena into her arms. "You're worth far too much to us for you to put yourself out there recklessly just to prove something." She said softly against her daughter's hair. "Please,_ please _, be more careful."_

 _Helena felt her eyes water, and she swallowed before replying. "I will. Just remember I feel the same way about you and Dad, deal?"_

 _"Deal."_

* * *

Helena awoke to low voices. She blinked, trying to make out the words, but she was uncomfortable. It took her a second to clear her head and realize that her hands had been tied behind her back.

"You said she wanted your help breaking into the lab? Do you know why?"

"Yeah. It sounded crazy. She said she wanted some glowing purple stone, whatever that is."

A small grunt escaped Helena involuntarily as she tried to wiggle out of her bonds. She heard footsteps and a moment later Selina was standing over her.

"She's up."

The other face that peered over her was just as familiar.

"Hey, what is this?" Helena struggled and sat up. "Why'd you bring him here?"

"What do you want at Wayne Labs?"

"I heard you talking," Helena said. "You know what I want."

Bruce glanced at Selina.

"I know you have it," Helena said. "It's in your files."

"That's what you where doing yesterday," Bruce said with understanding. "You were hacking into my computer system."

"I promise I don't mean you any harm," Helena said. "This has nothing to do with you or…the mob…or whatever current nutjob has got Gotham under his thumb right now. I just need that stone."

"Is someone after you?"

"No."

"Is someone else after the stone?"

Helena sighed and closed her eyes for a moment, pulling together the story she'd planned. She'd had to make it specifically for them, a plight they'd be willing to help her with. "I can't disclose my employer," she said. "But I can tell you that he needs the stone for a good reason—to keep it from someone else who would use it. And not for good."

"Who's after it?" Bruce asked.

"Some scientist," Helena baited. "Weird name, literally. Strange."

Bruce and Selina looked at each other.

"And what does your employer plan to do with it?" Bruce asked.

"I don't know, I was just hired to get it out of Gotham. But I trust him. He's a good man."

Selina scoffed. "Why did he send you?" she asked.

"Despite what it may look like at the moment, I'm normally pretty good with this sort of thing. Unfortunately, I had an…incident." She glanced at Selina. "I lost most of my equipment, and I have no contact with my employer." She looked back at Bruce. "We're not criminals. I could have gone for help for any one of the crooks for hire here. But I wanted someone with a conscience."

"So you went to Selina?" Bruce glanced at her with a look in his eye that Helena couldn't quite interpret. It was somewhere between pride and satisfaction—maybe the pleasure of a confirmed guess.

Selina rolled her eyes. "Thanks, B."

"He didn't mean it that way," Helena said, and then wished she hadn't when both of them looked at her as if she was intruding. "Well, didn't you?"

Bruce stared at her a moment and then looked to Selina. "I think we should help her."

"Your funeral," Selina mumbled. "Shouldn't we at least—I don't know—tell Alfred?"

"That's something I don't hear from you every day."

"Yeah, well, this whole situation strikes me as fishy, and believe or not, I think Alfred would agree with me."

"Who's Alfred?" Helena said innocently.

"His grumpy British butler."

"Oh." Helen nodded in understanding, as if the man in question hadn't been her surrogate grandfather for the past twenty years.

Selina leaned behind Helena to reach her wrists.

"I should have been suspicious of the tea," Helena said as Selina untied her. Helena could have gotten out of them if she'd really tried, but she didn't think her life was in any mortal danger.

"Yeah, you should have. I could have killed you." Selina's tone of voice made it clear she thought Helena was an idiot.

"I just wasn't expecting you…" Helena shook her head. "Never mind." She cursed her lapse of foresight. Who was she to these people? No one. A complete stranger. She shouldn't have expected them to treat her as anything less (or more) than a threat. It gave her an unexpected pain, even though she thought she had hardened herself against it. They were _everything_ to her. And at the moment, she was nothing to them.

"The car's out front," Bruce said as the three of them exited the apartment. "By the way." He opened the door of the car and looked at Helena. "I never got your name."

"It's Bertinelli," Helena said.

"No, it's not."

Helena shrugged. "It's all you're going to get."

"Fair enough." He climbed in the front seat and started the car.

Surprised he didn't press her for more, Helena settled in the back of the car and adjusted the seatbelt. It wasn't the batmobile, but it was a pretty nice car anyway.

"I can't believe you drove this car _here_ ," Selina grumbled to Bruce. "In broad daylight."

"It's stealthy."

"It's _nice_."

"Thank you."

"That's _not_ what I meant."

In the rearview mirror, Helena could see the corners of his mouth turn up into an almost-smile. "I know."

The rest of the ride was silent, and Helena wondered if it was because she was there, or if they were always this…non-communicative. Of course, neither of her parents were known for being particularly chatty, but their silences were generally comfortable ones. This silence was just this side of awkward, perhaps best described as simply "stiff."

Luckily, she knew the way home. Which meant she only had—she glanced at the clock on the dashboard—twelve minutes of this left.

Well, it was only the second most uncomfortable ride home she'd ever had.

(That night they'd had to pick her up from a friend's sleepover because she'd started a fistfight over some girl insulting Nightwing—how could anyone dislike _Nightwing_?—was definitively the worst. She supposed that even in Gotham, it was the first time the cops had ever been called on a party consisting solely of a bunch of rowdy thirteen-year-old girls. But Dick had taken her out for ice cream the next day, so she couldn't complain too much.)


	5. Chapter 5

Helena couldn't help but feel her heart lift when she saw Wayne Manor. Now _that_ —that hadn't changed much. For a moment, she could have imagined that everything was right again and she was coming home.

Bruce let them in through the back door of the kitchen. Selina grabbed an apple from the fruit basket and bit into it.

"Do you have a bathroom around here?" Helena asked.

Bruce nodded. "Around the hall, first door on the right."

Helena left the room, but chose the door next to the bathroom instead- a small linen closet with a false back that led to a secret passage and staircase behind the kitchen. She slid behind the wall and through the passage. She was certain her father knew about it, but he had no idea that she ever would. If Bruce and Selina were still in the kitchen, she could listen in and see where she stood with them. She didn't like eavesdropping, but sometimes it couldn't be helped. She crept into the small attic space above the kitchen and found the peephole. Sure enough, they were both down there.

"You're smarter than this, Bruce," she heard Selina say. "I don't know what she wants, but she's hiding something."

"I think you're right. But if Strange is after something at the Lab—we can't let him get it. We both know what he's like."

"You've got security there—"

"Selina. _You're_ smarter than that."

Selina sighed. "Point taken."

"Maybe it's just that—" Bruce stopped, and Helena wondered if he'd lowered his voice and she just couldn't hear him, but then he spoke again. "There's something about her that reminds me of you. If you were in trouble, I'd hope someone would help."

"That is the stupidest thing you've ever said to me."

"Why, because I care?"

"Yes, because you care! You always try to see the best in everyone, and it's going to kill you one day. And something tells me I'm going to have to watch it happen, to which I say 'no thanks.' " Selina stalked out the door. "I'm getting Alfred."

Bruce didn't follow her. He sat at the table with a grim look on his face. The tension between him and Selina—Helena didn't like it. It was so uncertain, as if they were walking a tightrope where one wrong move would topple their relationship forever.

Helena's existence suddenly seemed very tenuous.

The thing about her parents was that though their relationship was not what she could call _placid_ , like a pond or lake, she'd never once that anything could ever break it. Her parents' marriage, if she thought about it, struck her as more of a river—raging, at times flooding, always changing, calmer at some times more than others, but still always reassuringly and constantly _there_. She remembered when she was around six or so, and she was first confronted with the concept of divorce. It had seemed so strange and foreign to her, and in a way it still did. It wasn't until a bit later she realized that most marriages didn't involve the level the life-and-death trust that her parents had. Maybe it was that reason, more than the fact that her family was ridiculously intimidating, that she'd never been in a romantic relationship—if she couldn't have one like her parents', did she really want one at all?

Helena slipped out of the passage and peeked out into the hall before going back into the kitchen.

"Where's Selina?" she asked.

"Getting Alfred. Follow me." Bruce led her out of the room, and Helena smiled at the sight of the chandelier as they passed through the foyer. She'd never seen it before except in the background of pictures; Dick had broken it longer before she'd been born. Jason and Tim still teased him about it.

Helena wasn't surprised when Bruce led them into the study; it was his favorite room in the house, and she'd spent plenty of evenings as a child quietly coloring or putting together puzzles in front of the fireplace while he worked at his desk.

She sat down on the couch and glanced at the coffee table. Brows furrowed, she ran a finger down the center of it. The crack that had always been there—the remembrance of _that_ night—wasn't there yet. That day would shape so much of her parents, and who they were to become. She couldn't change it, but—

She couldn't help but glance at them. The newspapers had mentioned Valeska. It wouldn't be long now. She wondered what would happen when she got home, and her parents knew she'd been back to see them. Would they blame her for not warning them? Blame her for letting her mother get shot, for Jeremiah? But how could she without the risk of changing everything?

* * *

 _"Did you see that they've given you a name?" Dad asked._

 _It was one of those typical mornings when half of the family went one way and the other half went another. Helena had come down to find her dad the only one in the kitchen, still in his pajamas and eating a bowl of cereal, the boring kind that tasted like oats and sadness._

 _Helena reached for the paper._

 ** _NEW HERO IN GOTHAM? THE "HUNTRESS" TAKES DOWN ARMED ROBBERY_**

 _"I kind of like it," she said. It had been hard giving up Robin, harder than she expected. After all, being Robin was kind of a Wayne family rite of passage. She'd been eager to create a persona of her own, to be her own hero. But not being Robin…well, it had felt a little like being kicked out of the nest._

 _"I do too." Dad smiled at her, and she knew it was his way of saying he was proud of her. He wasn't always the best at saying how he felt, but Helena knew how to read him pretty well._

 _"So, Huntress, huh?" Jason said, walking into the room. "Told you the crossbow was cool." Jason hadn't been living at the manor for a while now, but he'd crashed there last night for an as-of-yet unknown reason. Helena was just glad to see that he and Dad weren't fighting for once._

 _"I didn't choose it because you thought it was cool, Jay." Helena stuck out her tongue._

 _"Wow. Mature. Are you sure you're ready to be out of the Robin suit?" He stole the box of good cereal right before Helena reached it._

 _"Hey!"_

 _"There's enough Cocoa Puffs for the both of us, 'Lena."_

 _"Not at the rate you're pouring."_

 _"Please tell me I don't have to break up a fight over cereal between my two grown children," Dad said, sounding tired but not unamused._

 _"Grown? She's not legal yet," Jason reminded him. He looked back at Helena. "No alcohol for you."_

 _"Man, and I was really looking forward to that shot of vodka at eight in the morning." Helena rolled her eyes, but she was secretly glad Jason was around. He was her big brother, after all. She'd missed him._

 _She kind of had a feeling he already knew that, even though she hadn't said so. Maybe their dad wasn't the only one who struggled with expressing feelings._

 _She looked back down at the paper. There wasn't a photo, but there was a description. She hadn't counted on just how different it felt to be this…Huntress instead of Robin. Robin was more of a mask, a legacy she'd been a part of and a part she knew how to play. Being Huntress, being something new—with no expectations—was both frightening and exhilarating. She wondered if it was a little bit like her father must have felt like when he first became the Batman, doing something that no one had done before. Of course, it wasn't quite the same. Her father really had been on his own, except for Alfred of course._

 _Jason took the bowl of cereal up to his room. His old room, rather. Helena would have been disappointed he hadn't chosen to eat with them, but at the moment she wanted to talk with her dad alone._

 _"Was it hard, at the beginning. When people didn't know what to make of you, I mean?"_

 _Dad seemed to know exactly what she was talking about. "It's always hard," he said. "But at the time—" he stopped before beginning again. "I had tried being a vigilante before, but I wasn't ready. I can't say I was ready when Batman came along, either—but then, then I didn't have much of choice."_

 _"Because of_ him _," Helena said tentatively. Even now, neither of her parents liked saying Jeremiah's name._

 _"He'd tried to take so much from me. I was so focused on that, on the city, on your mother—I don't think I had time to think about what anyone else thought." He looked at her. "Is that what you're wondering?"_

 _Helena shrugged. "I don't know. Robin already had a reputation. Huntress doesn't. Who am I supposed to be?"_

 _"You're whoever Gotham needs you to be, Helena. That's the point of this._ All _of this."_

* * *

But that was just the thing—right now, what Gotham needed was for her to _not be there_. It didn't need Huntress, and it certainly didn't need Helena Wayne. Who, then, was she supposed to be?


	6. Chapter 6

_**First off: Thank you guys for the kind comments! They mean a lot! This chapter has been giving me quite a bit of trouble, so I'm sorry it's taken so long to post it! I'm not fully pleased with it, but I figured I've messed around with it enough. And it is kind of appropriate for Father's Day, so there's that, I guess. And no worries: Chapter 7 shouldn't take me nearly so long.**_

* * *

The first thing Helena thought when Alfred entered the room was that he had a lot more hair than she was used to seeing. He wasn't as thin, either. She stood when she saw him.

"This is Miss Bertinelli," Bruce said, looking at Helena. "She needs our help."

"A relative of yours, Miss Kyle?"

"Um, no." Selina looked offended at the thought.

"Quite a striking resemblance, then. You two could be sisters."

Helena had actually heard that before. Normally her mom liked it.

"Miss Bertinelli's from out of town," Bruce said before either Selina or Helena could reply. "She came to steal one of the unidentified objects in the lab run by Wayne Enterprises."

Helena didn't want to look at Alfred. Alfred could see through schemes faster than anyone she knew—even Dad.

"Steal?" Alfred raised his eyebrows and Helena massaged her temples.

"She's been hired to take it to a secure location to keep it out of Hugo Strange's hands."

Helena looked Alfred in the eyes and hoped he didn't realize that her own were mirror images of the boy not three feet away from her. Alfred been the first to verbally comment on her appearance, and she didn't like it.

"I can't give you much information, but I work for a…private company—well, a team, rather— who has a vested interest in protecting this item from falling into Strange's hands," Helena said.

"So you've come to obtain the help of two teenagers and a middle-aged butler. Forgive my bluntness, miss, but we're not interested."

Bruce opened his mouth to speak, but Helena beat him to it. "You're not just a butler," she said quickly, and he stopped in the doorway. "You were a British Special Operations Executive."

Alfred turned. "How did you know that?"

"I did my homework. I know Thomas Wayne found you in London when you were in bad place, personally and financially. Offered you a job here."

"Who told you that?" Alfred barked.

Helena held her ground, though she'd never been in a situation like this with Alfred, of all people. He was the one person in the house she never got into arguments with. "Does it matter? I know that you—all three of you—can be trusted. You don't know if I can, and I'm sorry for that. But we have a common goal—to protect Gotham and those we love. That I promise you."

"This stone—what can it do?" Alfred asked.

"It's a power source. It's quite small, but it packs a punch. In the right—or wrong—hands, it could change history." _Quite literally_.

"What do you plan to do with it?"

"Well, it can't be destroyed," Helena said. "Attempting it would be unbelievably dangerous. I'm not privy to all of my employer's plans, but it will be kept safe." Gosh, she hoped she could keep this story straight. At this rate, she was going to start having to keep a notebook.

* * *

"I can come with you if you want," Bruce had asked. "Do you need help carrying anything?" He had driven her back to her apartment to get her things. Bruce had suggested that it would be easier if she stayed at Wayne Manor. Alfred had agreed, but Helena privately thought it was just so he could keep a closer eye on her. He had agreed to help, but not without his misgivings. Helena hoped he'd come around to trusting her in time.

"I don't have a lot," Helena said. "I'll only be a few minutes."

Really, she didn't have much. The device, wrapped in a scarf, was the first thing to go into her bookbag, followed by the laptop. Her clothes fit into the duffel bag, and she stuck her wallet in her jacket's inside pocket. She'd find a safe place to hide it when she got back to the Manor. If she could maneuver herself into getting Alfred to offer her her old room, she knew just the place.

"For someone who isn't from around here, you seem to know Gotham," Bruce said as she got back into the car.

"I'm a fast learner," she said. "I've been here almost a week." She changed the subject. "Do you think Alfred believes me? About all of this?"

"He's willing to keep an open mind, I think," Bruce said as they stopped at a red light. He looked at Helena. "He doesn't trust you, but that's not a surprise."

"Yeah," Helena said. "I guess not."

 _"Don't go too deep, Miss Helena," Alfred's voice reminded her. "Remember the way we practiced."_

 _Helena took a deep breath and poised the needle above the sharp cut on her father's upper arm._

 _"It'll be fine, Helena," her father said. "I trust you."_

 _She bit her lip as she poked the needle though the skin. "Does that hurt?" she asked._

 _"No."_

 _Helena scrunched her nose. "I can tell when you're lying, Dad."_

 _"I'm sorry," he said seriously. "I know better than to try to pull one over on you."_

 _She stared at the wound in front of her. She wasn't normally squeamish, but it was different when you were the one trying to put someone back together. It was the responsibility of it that caused the queasiness in her stomach, even if the injury wasn't a serious one. "A good one for her to practice on," Dad had said to Alfred. Helena had been excited about it. Now she was nervous._

 _"It's not bad," her father reassured her. "I'm used to it."_

 _"Your stiches are even, Miss Helena," Alfred said approvingly. "Very regular. You're much better at this than your father."_

 _"Maybe we've got a future doctor on our hands," Dad said._

 _At twelve, Helena was certain she knew what she was going to do with her life. "I'm going to be a lawyer, Dad," she said, carefully pulling the thread through his skin. "I already told you."_

 _"I remember you telling me." Her father didn't smile, but he had the glint in his eye he got whenever he was about to tease her. "But I couldn't recall whether that was before or after the prima ballerina."_

 _Helena could feel herself relax, and the suturing came easier now. It didn't feel that much different than her first lesson when she'd practiced on a banana skin._

 _"The ballerina was when I was ten, Dad. But it's too much of a commitment if I plan on working with you, too."_

 _"And being a lawyer isn't?" Dad said._

 _"It would be useful," Helena maintained. "I could see both sides of the law at once."_

 _"She has a point," Alfred said._

 _"Yeah." This time her dad did smile. "Smart kid."_

 _"She must get that from her mother, Sir."_

"Something amusing you?" Bruce asked.

"Hmmm? Oh." Helena realized he'd seen her smile and shook her head. "I was just thinking that Alfred reminds me of my grandfather, that's all."

"So you've got a family?"

"Everyone has a family, Bruce. At least, everyone's had one at one point." She shouldn't have said that. Bruce didn't know that one day he'd have more family than he knew what to do with. Right now…well, right now he didn't really have many people, did he?

"I don't know," he said. "Secret agent types don't seem like the kind to have a lot of family connections."

"You'd be surprised." Helena raised her brows and looked out the window. Just then, her stomach grumbled. Embarrassed, she pressed a hand to her midsection. "Sorry."

"When was the last time you ate?" Bruce asked.

"Uh, this morning I think?" She hadn't really been concerned with food. "Yeah. I had frozen waffles."

"All carbs." Bruce shook his head. "No wonder you're hungry." He changed lanes. "There's a diner nearby. Want me to get you something?"

"Wow. Bruce Wayne, eating at a diner." She grinned.

"Hey, their food is pretty good. Selina introduced it to me, back when I was staying with her."

"I could go for a burger."

"Burger it is then."

"And fries?"

"I think I can afford fries," he said. He looked at her and smiled, and Helena breathed easier. The one thing that continually surprised her was how much more relaxed her father was. The opposite was true with both Selina and Alfred; they must have mellowed over the years because she'd never seen either of them as uptight as they seemed to be now. But while Helena had always been the one who could get Bruce to laugh, who could get him to accept all of her enthusiastic hugs, there was a world-weary seriousness about him that he could rarely shake. She could see it deep within Bruce even now—that darkness was still there.

Maybe he just hadn't fully accepted it yet.

Bruce parked the car. "Do you want to go in?"

"Alfred's probably anxious," Helena said. "If we take too long he might think I've kidnapped you or something." She also didn't like the idea of being seen with Bruce Wayne when she was supposed to be keeping a low profile. Bruce took the hint and went into the diner by himself and came back with a bag.

"Burger and fries. And a milkshake," he said, handing it to her.

"Thanks." She reached inside. "Oh yes." She took a bite. "As a kid I had gymnastic lessons, and usually my dad was working, but sometimes he'd leave early and we'd get burgers." She smiled and glanced at Bruce. "And a milkshake."

The smile Bruce had was nostalgic. "My dad would take me out for burgers on his lunch break sometimes. I was never a big fan of fast food, but I liked spending time with him."

"You never—" She stopped. _You never told me that before_. "I heard about what happened to him. I'm sorry."

Bruce nodded. "I still wonder what things would have been like if he hadn't died."

Helena wondered too. Would he have ever even met her mother? Would he have become Batman? And what would a Gotham that still had the Waynes in it look like?

"Bruce…." She set the burger down to pause and looked at him. "If you had a chance to somehow…I don't know, go back in time and save your parents, would you? If you knew that it might mess something up in the present, now?"

"How do you mean?"

Helena shook her head. "Nothing. It was a stupid question."

"No, it wasn't."

"It's just we never really know how our actions might impact the future. If we did, I wonder what we'd change."

"Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if we hadn't gone out that night," Bruce said, eyes serious and on the road. "But then I remember how they died. It wasn't an accident. And I wonder, then, if it hadn't been then, when? The next day, the next week? Maybe I could have stopped that night, but even if I knew, would I have been able to _stop it_?"

Helena felt goosebumps on her arms. She hadn't thought of that.

He looked at her. "But that doesn't mean if I had the chance, I wouldn't try."

* * *

When Bruce and Helena got back, Selina was on the couch, feet on the coffee table, glancing through one of the books from Bruce's shelves. She looked up at their entrance.

Helena lifted her duffel bag. "Got my stuff."

It wasn't anything particularly profound, but she felt like she needed to throw out a greeting of some sort. Before Selina could answer, another voice interrupted.

"Miss Bertinelli."

Helena spun around to see Alfred behind her.

"I can show you to your room now." He offered his hand to carry the unwieldy duffel bag and Helena was about to refuse until she realized he was thirty years younger than she was used to and could probably handle it.

"Oh, sure. Thanks."

Helena looked back to Bruce and Selina who, honestly, looked like they needed to talk.

"I'll…uh…yeah." She pointed to Alfred's back, already going up the stairs with the duffel bag. "I'll be right back."

She ran to catch up with him. "Thanks for letting me stay here," she said.

"It's Master Bruce's house."

Helena gave a half laugh. "Yeah, but—" She shrugged.

Alfred stopped and looked over his shoulder. "Yes?"

"I mean, he listens to you, right?"

Alfred turned back around and looked at her until she felt uncomfortable and then turned and continued.

Helena bit her lip and followed him. She almost collapsed with relief when she saw what room he'd led her to. Hers. She dumped the backpack on the bed. "Thanks."

"Can I take a shower?" Helena asked.

"There's a bathroom through that door," Alfred said, nodding towards the left side of the room. "It's already stocked with towels, in case you need to shower."

"Thanks."

Again, the setting was comforting. Her own bedroom, her own bathroom—it was a million times better than the apartment. As soon as Alfred was gone, she put the backpack under the bed and then went over to the fireplace. The best thing about Wayne Manor, Helena always thought, was how many hiding places it had. Crouching down, she ran her fingers across the bricks of the fireplace until she found the loose one. Pulling it out, she removed her wallet from her jacket and placed it into the hollowed brick before returning it. Hiding the device would be a little more difficult—there weren't any places large enough in the room. For now, she'd leave it under the bed until she'd had her shower, and then she'd decide the best place to put it.

Helena let herself linger in the warm water. Maybe it was procrastination. Alone in the shower, she didn't have to be constantly on her guard, worried about saying the wrong thing and messing up the timeline. But she couldn't hide in there forever. She toweled off and twisted her hair up with a huge clip that had somehow ended up in the bathroom drawer. (Had it been her grandmother's? That was an odd thought). Dressing in the pair of purple sweatpants and the black t-shirt she'd bought her second night in Gotham past, she went back into her room. And stopped.

Alfred.

Alfred was in her room.

And he was holding the machine.

* * *

 _*I couldn't remember precisely what Alfred's military background was in Gotham, so I just went with the traditional "Alfred Pennyworth backstory" from his wiki page. Hopefully it's not too far off._


	7. Chapter 7

"You went through my things?" Helena gasped in disbelief. She lurched forward to grab the device. "It's not a bomb, I promise, but please _don't drop it_!" She took it from his hands and placed it gently on the bed. She spun to face him. "I can't believe you went through my backpack."

"If you've seen what I have, you wouldn't blame me." Alfred's eyes were dark. "If it's not a bomb, what is it?"

"I can't tell you."

"Miss Bertinelli, if you think for one moment I'm going to let you get Master Bruce mixed up in something like this—"

"I'm not trying to—"

"You can't even keep your story straight." Alfred stopped her. "You think I couldn't notice when you were explaining your tale back there? The story about Hugo Strange is rubbish. I don't even know if that rock is what you're even after at the Lab. But I've seen enough people take advantage of that boy, and I won't let you do the same."

"I wish I could tell you, all right!" Helena was so exhausted she felt like she could cry. "I wish I could explain everything. You don't know how much I _want_ to. But if I do I might just make things worse!"

"You tell me the truth, or you leave right now."

Helena knew he meant it. She took a deep breath. Alfred was better at keeping secrets than anyone she knew. And if he _did_ know the truth, he would be an important ally. The trouble was, she wasn't sure he would believe her when she did tell him.

She sat down on the bed and looked at her feet. "The device is a time machine," she said quietly. "I didn't build it and I don't know where it came from. I accidentally triggered it and ended up here." She looked up at him. "I couldn't get it to send me back, and when I took it apart, I found out it was the power source had shattered." She reached into the backpack and dumped out the small pieces of the stone into her hand. "I've been trying to find out what this is and how I can fix it, if I even can. The closest thing I've found is that stone in Wayne Labs. That's why I need help."

Alfred looked shaken. He ran a hand through his hair and sat down on the bench of the vanity.

"Do you believe me?" she asked. His reaction wasn't what she had expected.

"I once lived with a clone of Bruce Wayne for months without noticing," he said. "I've learned that anything is possible."

"Even time travel?" Helena prodded.

"As much as it pains me to open myself to the possibility of it, yes."

She exhaled in relief. "You can't tell anyone," she said. "I mean, you really, really can't. Especially not…" she nodded towards the door..." _them_."

Alfred closed his eyes a moment and sighed. "Please don't tell me they're your parents or something." The look on his face said he already knew.

Helena looked at him apologetically, and Alfred swore.

"You know, you'd wash my mouth out with soap if I ever said anything like that," Helena couldn't help but say.

Alfred ran a hand over the bottom half of his face.

"I understand it's…difficult. It's hard for me, too." She furrowed her brows. "What did you think I was up to? You must have thought it serious enough if it meant prying through my things."

"At best, I thought you had your own agenda to save your own skin from something. At worst, I thought you might be working for Strange himself. Both Bruce and Selina have gotten tangled up with him and his experiments before, and you look so much like them I feared…"

"Oh my gosh." Helena made a disgusted face. "You thought I was some weird hybrid of them that he made in a lab or something? Gross."

"As I said…anything is possible. To be brutally honest, learning your existence originated by the usual manner of such things is something of a relief." He paused. "Surprisingly."

Helena walked over to the fireplace and removed the brick. "This is actually my room, you know," she said, pulling out her wallet. She pulled out her driver's license and handed it to him.

Alfred ran his finger over her picture. "Helena Martha."

"It means "shining light,' " Helena said. "Dad always said that was important, that he wanted me to always know that no matter how dark things get, there's always a light."

"And the Martha is after your grandmother," Alfred said.

Helena nodded. "Yeah," she said softly.

"You're…you're really Bruce's little girl, aren't you?" His voice cracked on the last word of the sentence, the weight of her identity suddenly hitting him.

Helena nodded and felt her eyes water. After a moment's hesitation, Alfred pulled her close to him and hugged her. She couldn't stop the tears now; she cried into his shoulder.

"I just want to go back home, Alfred," she said into his shoulder. "I want my parents to know who I am, and I want the rest of my family back, and—and I want your oatmeal cookies."

Alfred pulled away so he could look at her. "When you get back home, because you _will_ ," Alfred said firmly, "I'll make sure those cookies will be ready for you."

Helena laughed a little through her tears and wiped her eyes. "That would be nice."

"You've got his eyes," he said, looking at her a moment. "You look like your mother, but you've got his eyes."

"I inherited a lot more than that from him, or at least that's what mom tells me when I'm being stubborn." She smiled.

Alfred shook his head. "Your mother." He rolled his eyes upward and sighed. "Of course."

"Believe it or not, apparently you're thrilled when they get married, Alfred. I have it on good authority."

"Oh, whose?"

She smiled. "Your own." To Helena's memory, Alfred and Selina had always been close, probably from decades of ganging up on Bruce to keep him from getting himself though their relationship now certainly seemed rockier, Helena had the suspicion that neither of them disliked each other as much as they pretended to.

"She does grow on one, I'll give her that," Alfred admitted. He glanced at Helena's driver's license again, and she laughed.

"Don't worry, Alfred. I'm not born for a long, _long_ time." She took the wallet from him and hid it back in the fire place.

"Now that my mind is set to rest on that account," Alfred began, sitting down, "tell me all that you know about this time machine."

* * *

 _"How are you doing, Miss Helena?"_

 _"A little better," she croaked from her bed, talking around the thermometer in her mouth. She couldn't breathe out of her left nostril, and her throat felt like it was on fire. In all her eight years, she couldn't remember feeling so sick. For the past hour she'd been blearily watching_ Robin Hood _, and while it had always been one of her favorites, it was hard to enjoy it when she felt so sick._

 _"Well, this should help." Alfred brought her a tray with a bowl of soup and some crackers, and she perked up._

 _"Chicken noodle?" she asked, pushing herself up so she sat against the pillows._

 _"Homemade." Alfred set the tray down on the nightstand and took the thermometer out of her mouth. "Hmmm." He looked disapprovingly at it. "You still have a fever."_

 _Helena had already started on the soup. It felt amazing on her throat, so amazing that she would have kept on eating it even if she hadn't been hungry._

 _"Slow down, Miss Helena. We don't want you to choke, now do we?"_

 _Helena slowed her slurping. "Thank you for the soup, Alfred." She licked a drop of it off of her bottom lip. "Can you turn off the TV, Alfred? My eyes are tired."_

 _Alfred did so. "Would you like a book?"_

 _Helena shook her head. She already had a small headache, and she knew reading would make it worse._

 _"Would you like me to read to you, then?"_

 _Helena brightened up a bit. "Yes, please." She pointed to the book on her dresser. "I was going to start on that one before I got sick."_

 _Alfred picked it up. "Ah._ The Mark of Zorro _. That was always a favorite of your father's."_

 _"It was?" Helena perked up._

 _"This is a second copy," Alfred said. "He read the first one so much it fell apart. Now, shall I begin?"_

 _Helena nodded, and Alfred cleared his throat._

 _"Again the sheet of rain beat against the roof of red Spanish tile," he began, "and the wind shrieked like a soul in torment, and smoke puffed from the big fireplace as the sparks were showered over the hard dirt floor."_

 _Helena snuggled deeper under the blankets._

 _" 'Tis a night for evil deeds!"_

 _The flippant Don Diego, disguised as the masked hero Zorro, had just dueled the villain Gonzales by the time Helena's eyes fluttered closed and fell into a deep sleep assisted by cold medicine._

 _She awoke two hours later to cool finger pressing against her cheek and forehead. She opened her eyes to see her mother, still wearing work clothes. She hadn't even taken her heels off yet. Her mother usually didn't leave Helena when she was sick like this, but she'd had a meeting at the orphanage and couldn't miss it. Helena knew how important the orphanage was to her mother. Not that Selina had good memories of her time there—but perhaps that was why she was so passionate about helping the children who ended up without a home or family._

 _"How are you doing, kitten?" she asked. "You still feel warm."_

 _Helena shrugged. "Too sick for school."_

 _Mom smiled at this. "I'm sure you are. But Alfred's taken good care of you."_

 _Helena nodded. "He always does."_

 _Mom sat on the edge of the bed and picked up the book Alfred had been reading. "_ Zorro _, huh?"_

 _"I already watched_ The Great Mouse Detective _and_ Robin Hood _," Helena said, and reached for her glass of water, which her mom handed to her. "My eyes were tired." She took a sip and then handed the glass back to her mother, who set in on the nightstand._

 _"I bet they are." Her mother gently ran her hand over Helena's eyes and kissed her forehead. "You go back to sleep now. You need your rest. Okay?"_

 _"'kay." Helena yawned. She didn't need to be told twice. "I'm glad your home."_

 _"Me too, baby. I'll always be here whenever you need me."_


	8. Chapter 8

"Can you speak any foreign languages?" Bruce asked.

He, Selina, Alfred, and Helena were all gathered in the study, planning their next move. Helena tried not to look at Alfred, fearing that Selina and Bruce might notice the change in their attitude toward each other. Yet she couldn't deny that knowing he had her back made her feel a million times better.

"I can speak Italian well, and a smattering of French," she told her father.

"She can play a foreign investor, don't you think, Alfred?" Bruce asked.

"I see where you're going, Master B. You'll be touring the labs with Miss Bertinelli from Florence, perhaps, who wishes to see the facilities before her company invests in one of our projects?"

"And I can tamper with security while we're down there," Helena said with understanding. "Prepare the place for a heist that night."

"I can break in later that night," Selina said.

"No," Helena said quickly. "It should be me." At their looks, she continued, "You're not an unfamiliar face, Selina. You live here. But no one knows me. If I get caught, then Bruce can come up with some story about how he hired me to check the lab's security."

"I don't get caught," Selina said, " _but_ that particular excuse not a terrible idea. We'll go together."

Helena bit her lip. "Okay," she said. She glanced at Alfred. He nodded at her, slightly, so she decided not to push. She didn't like the idea of her mother possibly getting caught, but it wasn't as though Selina wasn't used to the danger of it.

Bruce pointed to the lab's blueprints on the table. "The object you're looking for is held in this room, here. All the unidentified objects are held in climate-controlled, lab-grade containers within lockboxes equipped with electronic codes."

"I should be able to crack those," Helena said. Because they were so out-of-date by her time, she'd used old discontinued ones of similar models to practice on when she was a kid. Hey, no one could accuse her education of being typical. "How do I get in the room?"

"That's where I come in," Selina said. She and Bruce had obviously spent their time planning the heist in Helena's absence. "I can take out all the cameras before we start, but the floor the room is on still has a _lot_ of security. To get in there we'd need a lot more time and put out a lot more effort. The floor above it, however, is a different story. Bertinelli, you'll be in charge of swiping one of the guard's key passes to unlock the door on the roof. I can't pick the lock up there because there's a failsafe system that will set off alarms throughout the building if I try. I _could_ get around that, but I don't have the materials for it, not if we want to do this tomorrow."

"So I get the pass. But wouldn't the guard notice his is missing?"

"Not if we replace it with a fake. They don't need the passes to leave the building, only to enter it. You just have to switch them out."

"I can do that," Helena said. "And then we get to the floor above and…"

"I can get us in through the doors on that level," Selina said. "The room above the storage area is a set of offices. I'll take out all the cameras, and then we'll climb through the vents to get to the room below. You get to the lockbox, take the stone, and then it's getaway time."

"Do we actually have a getaway car?" Helena started to smile.

"Courtesy of B, yes," Selina said. "Think you can do it?"

"Of course. Believe me, I've gotten into much tighter places."

* * *

Helena, wearing her disguise, followed behind Bruce. She'd straightened her hair again, wore it up high off her neck, and added a large pair of sunglasses to her face. In her black dress and heels, she'd thought it all looked very _Breakfast at Tiffany's_. Even though she would only be speaking in Italian the entire time she was there, she'd been on enough undercover missions to know that you never knew who might understand a foreign language; therefore, she and Bruce had agreed that her conversation would consist only of what foreign investor Miss Bertinelli would speak.

As she entered into the building and Bruce explained the situation to the woman at the front desk (no one turned Bruce Wayne and his guests away), Helena couldn't help but marvel at her surroundings. Everything looked dated but not _old_ , which felt extremely paradoxical to eyes trained to expect such style and technology to at least appear faded and grimy by time.

"It shouldn't be long now," Bruce told her, in Italian.

"I am a patient person, Mr. Wayne," Helena answered back in the same language, lying superbly. She was _not_ patient by nature, though she had been trained to overcome that over the years. "I do not mind waiting, if the end result is worth it."

"I promise it will be." He waved a hand at a passing employee to ask for a tour. Last night he and Helena had gone through files of employees. Peter Wheeling was their best option. His key card not only opened the roof door, but he was on duty patrolling the halls now. Selina had helped Helena create a fake ID for him, which Helena would switch out when she got close enough. Their plan had been put together so quickly, though, that she knew the slightest inconvenience could unravel it. If Peter Wheeling happened to be sick and didn't come into work…if he was there but they never managed to find him in the halls…just the slightest bit of bad luck and plan A was done for. (Not, of course, that there weren't backup plans. Her father usually had so many back-up plans Helena wondered how he kept track of them all—although, to be fair, she operated much the same way. She liked being prepared, which was one reason why this whole situation troubled her so much. Being sent back in time was the one thing she _hadn't_ prepared herself for)

But now Helena forced herself to pay attention to the woman who was guiding them through the labs. Bruce translated the woman's words into Italian, and Helena had to pretend she didn't understand the guide's words the first time. On the second floor, where they were touring one of the research facilities, Bruce nudged Helena the same time she saw Peter Wheeling for herself. He was off near the door, talking to another of the security guards. As Miss Dorset led them through the room, Helena prepared herself for a fall. Passing Wheeling, she let her heel catch against the tile floor and fell against him, grabbing the ID clipped to his belt as she went down. She slid it up the skirt of her dress and hooked it onto the underside of her pocket, while in the same movement she clipped her copy of his ID back onto his belt as he pulled her up.

" _Mi scusi_!" she cried.

"You all right, Miss?" he asked, looking concerned.

" _Grazie_ ," Helena said, starting to rattle off in Italian. The guard looked at her in confusion.

"Are you all right?" Bruce asked in Italian. He turned to Miss Dorset. "She's fine." He nodded to Peter Wheeling. "Thank you, sir. She says she is grateful to you for catching her."

Helena smiled brightly at the guard.

"It was no trouble," he was a youngish man, and blushed a little. Helena couldn't resist. She patted his arm and said more in Italian. The man looked to Bruce.

"She says you are...uh.…very strong."

The guard's face turned even more red.

"And she says your girlfriend must be very lucky." Bruce gave a warning look to Helena, not appreciating the conversation she was forcing him to have.

"Oh, I don't…I don't have a…" the poor guard floundered.

Helena whispered something in Bruce's ear.

"I'm not translating your flirting for you," Bruce told Helena in Italian.

"You're no fun," she answered back with a grin. Bruce rolled his eyes.

"She says that she finds that hard to believe, but she has a friend she can set you up with," he told Wheeling.

"Oh, I'm sure that won't be necessary." The poor man was as red as a lobster, but not exactly displeased.

"That's just as well," Bruce said. "She probably only speaks Italian."

Helena waved at the guard, a bit coquettishly, as they left the room.

"You don't even have any friends here," Bruce whispered in English. "What if he had taken you up on your offer?"

Helena blinked at him innocently. "I know Selina."

He did not look amused.

Helena sighed dramatically. "I guess you're right. He was much too old for her, anyway." She regretted—just a tiny bit—teasing her father. It wasn't like her parents' relationship was entirely secure right now, anyway. She could tell Bruce loved her mother already, so she supposed that made the uncertain nature of their relationship even more of a sore spot for him.

Bruce was still grumbling as they left the building and climbed into the car. "He's going to remember you now," he said. "So much for being discreet."

"I was going to be remembered anyway," Helena said. "I figured I might as well have a little fun with it. Besides, I think I made that man's day."

Bruce rolled his eyes. "You embarrassed him half to death is what you did."

"I'm sure he was flattered." Both she and Bruce looked at each other for a moment, and then she couldn't hold back her straight face anymore. She laughed, and even Bruce smiled.

"All right, it did go pretty well," he admitted.

Helena unhooked the ID key card from underneath her skirt and took it out to examine it. "Selina's copy was really good. I don't think anyone would be able to tell the difference by sight."

"This stone," Bruce said. "Asset 329. How did your employer find out about it?"

"He has a large network that keeps an eye out for threats. Hugo Strange has been on his radar for years. When he saw that Strange was interested in something at the lab, he began looking at the possibilities more closely, until he discovered the stone."

"So it doesn't revolve around any weird legends or superstitious rituals or obscure religions?"

"It's not connected to any League of Assassins or anything, if that's what you're wondering."

Bruce almost hit the brakes. "You know about the League?"

 _Darn it._ Helena schooled her features. "My employer knows about nearly any threat, including the League."

"Well, we could have used a little help with them the past."

"Gotham isn't the only place the League interferes with," Helena said. "Sorry."

But Bruce still looked serious. "How did you know that I even knew about the League?"

"My employer knows everything." _Because he's Batman_.

Bruce raised a brow. "I highly doubt that."

Helena tried not to smile. "You'd be surprised."

* * *

 _ **A few disclaimers: 1) I do not speak Italian. Please forgive my flimsy attempts to do so. 2) I am a law abiding citizen who has never stolen anything, so I apologize for my less-than-stellar heist planning skills. Although I have seen every episode of Leverage, so you'd think I'd be better at it. ;) Also, the scene with the guard just sort of…happened? I don't even know how, haha. I'm almost done with chapter 9, so with any luck, it might actually be up tomorrow.**_


	9. Chapter 9

Later that night, Helena perched on the corner of the roof of the building across from the lab. "I never said thank you for siding with Bruce about letting me stay at the manor," she told Selina. The two were alone on the roof, scoping the area and waiting until exactly 1:22 in the morning to begin their break-in. "The apartment I was staying in for the job was nice, but it's not the same as being in a house."

"You grew up rich, didn't you?"

Helena did a double take. "Is it that obvious?"

Selina raised an eyebrow. "You just said you rented an apartment for a one-week stay in Gotham, rather than getting a hotel room like a normal person. Also, no normal person would refer to Bruce's place as "a house." "

"I needed privacy. I thought it would be more convenient."

Selina shook her head. "Only people with money think like that."

Helena didn't know what to say to that, and the two of them sat there in silence.

"So, you and Bruce," Helena said finally, "are you two…"

"Are we what?" Selina's glance was withering.

"Nevermind." Helena decided her mother was a lot pricklier at nineteen than at fifty. Usually _that_ look was reserved for much weightier offenses.

Bruce seemed more open to her, more approachable. Selina, on the other hand…Helena wasn't sure what Selina thought of her, but she didn't think it was particularly flattering. Was it bad to want her teenage version of her mother to like her so much? She wanted to ask, _Remember when I was little and you told me not to tell Dad you were teaching me how to pickpocket, but he found out anyway because I kept stealing his wallet? Remember the summer we tried to see how many Audrey Hepburn movies we could watch before school started, and we somehow dragged Cass, Steph, and Babs into watching them all too? Remember when you took me to the art museum, and I every time I told you I liked a painting, you told me the best way to steal it, and I could never tell if you were serious or not, but I loved every moment? Remember that Saturday we tried making beef bourguignon from the Julia Child cookbook? And it took_ hours _but in the end it actually tasted so good that even Alfred approved of it?_

But of course Selina _couldn't_ remember, because those things hadn't happened yet.

Helena sighed. "Have I offended you in some way?" she finally asked. "Or do you just not like me?"

"I have nothing against you," Selina said, not looking away from the building that was minutes away from being their target. "I just don't know you."

"If we're going to do this, we _are_ going to have to have some level of trust. You have to trust the people on your team, or you'll fail."

Selina barely hid a scoff. "I don't know who told you that, but they were wrong. Trusting others is exactly the thing that will get you killed."

"My mom told me that, and I think she'd know more about it than you," Helena said, nettled. "Besides, you trust Bruce."

"That's different." Selina said. "I know Bruce. I know him enough to trust that he'll always do what he thinks is the _right_ thing, even if it's the _stupid_ thing."

"And you'll always do the _smart_ thing, even if it's the _wrong_ thing?"

Selina shifted her position and looked at Helena. "Your mom. How'd the trusting work out for her?"

Helena felt the corner of her mouth lift in an almost-smile that looked exactly like her father's. "Pretty well." She didn't think she could look at Selina without her face giving her away, so she stared out into the skyline and added, "Mom didn't have a great childhood, but she learned that some people are worthy of trust. And she taught me the same."

Selina let out a breath. "Well, I guess I can't blame you. Maybe if I had a mother I would be just as enthusiastic about defending her, even if she was wrong."

"My mother is wonderful," Helena felt she was pushing it, but she wished she could somehow let Selina know. She wanted her to know that she _was_ wonderful, but how could she? Helena licked her bottom lip. It felt dry, and she wished she had chapstick. "She's not perfect, though. Sometimes she can be a pain." _Like now._

Selina let out an unamused laugh. "Yeah, well, I'm sure she's better than mine was."

"Sorry," was all Helena could say. Selina had never liked talking about her mother. She knew Maria Kyle had left Selina when she was a kid, but not much more than that. And of course, Helena's grandfather was a blank even Selina didn't have any information on.

"Yeah. There was a time I thought…" Selina's voice trailed off. "See? Trusting. That's why I don't. I let myself trust my mom for a couple lousy days...even Bruce could see through her and I—" She stopped and just shook her head.

"Bruce?" Helena's brow furrowed. She didn't know Bruce had ever met Selina's mother.

"I doesn't matter," Selina said. "Forget I said anything." She looked annoyed that Helena had managed to pull her into this conversation. If she was honest, Helena was surprised that she'd been able to.

"Well, for what it's worth, I'm sure you're nothing like her."

Selina didn't answer.

"Selina, really," Helena tried to see Selina's face in the darkness. "I'm sure you'd never…you'd never treat your children that way."

Selina rolled her eyes. "Like someone like me would ever risk having a kid."

"You don't want any?" Helena said in surprise, her heart clenching in her chest.

"I didn't say I didn't _want_ kids. I said I wouldn't have any. That's different." Selina stood and pulled her black mask over her face. "It's time."

"Wait, what's that supposed to mean?" Helena said, standing and reaching for her own mask.

"Got your crossbow?" Selina ignored her question.

"Yeah." Helena grabbed it and leaned on one knee against the roof, trying not to think about her mother's words. This roof was slightly higher than the one on the lab, which would make gliding down easier. She'd done like operations a million times before. She aimed and the crossbow released.

"Not bad," Selina said approvingly. _Maybe you're useful after_ all were the words she didn't say, but Helena heard all the same.

After securing the zipline on their side, Selina slid down first and Helena followed.

"You know, I don't think you're giving yourself enough credit," Helena said. "Nobody has to turn into their parents. Why wouldn't you be a good mom?"

"People like me…we don't make good parents. Nobody raised me. She laughed, but it was more mocking than amused. "Can you imagine it? Me, carting around kids to soccer practice and going to PTA meetings? It doesn't happen. Nobody raised me. How would I know about raising someone else?"

"You raised you. And you didn't turn out so bad."

"You don't even know me. I don't even know why you care." She pushed past Helena. "Shut up and give me the key card."

Selina certainly made Helena sigh a lot. She fished the key card out of her pocket and handed it to Selina, who slid it on the door. It opened effortlessly.

"Besides," Selina glanced back at Helena just before they went in. "I'm a thief. What kind of role model would that make me?"

* * *

 _"You're doing wonderful, Kitten."_

 _"Robin, Mom,_ Robin _," Helena said, exasperated. "It helps me remember that we're not just practicing in the cave."_

 _"Of course," her mother said seriously, but Helena could tell she was trying not to smile. In all their years, there had never been a slip-up with names while on patrol, but Helena worried that if mom kept using her pet name for Helena, one day Helena would break the batfamily perfect record. It was hard enough to remember that she was assisting Catwoman, not "Mom"—and she'd been Robin for two years now._

 _Not, of course, that her mother went easy on her—sometimes, Helena wished she could be under Dad's supervision. He didn't work her as hard, probably because his instinct to protect her sometimes came at the cost of his teaching._

 _Mom's specialty had always been focused on the woman of Gotham, especially those in less than ideal circumstances. She and Dad had been working on a sex trafficking ring for the past month, and though usually both of them preferred to keep Helena out of that line of investigation, today Selina had allowed Helena to come with her as they watched one of their suspects. It was woman, which surprised Helena. She'd always assumed that all sex traffickers were men—how could a woman do something like that to other women? But money, she'd learned, was powerful temptation to everyone, regardless of gender._

 _"She doesn't look like a bad guy," Helena said. She looked like a woman who presided at fundraisers and charity dinners, not back alleys._

 _"You should know by now that appearances can be deceiving," Mom said._

 _Helena knew it, but sometimes she liked sharing her observations aloud, even if she was aware they sounded naïve. They watched as the woman met a darkly-clad man. They spoke together animatedly, but Helena couldn't hear what they were saying. The woman handed the man something, but Helena couldn't see what it was._

 _"It's a flash drive," Mom whispered. As soon as the woman left, she nodded her head towards the man. Helena knew it meant they were to follow him._

 _Helena felt her heart rev up in excitement, as it always did, as she followed her mother. She always got nervous a split second before facing anyone, but that nervousness always disappeared the moment she got in on the action. Instinct and training always backed her up, and she rarely faltered._

 _The man entered an empty warehouse down the road. Helena took note of the address as Mom crept along the side of the warehouse and entered through the second-story window. Helena followed. The second story was really more of a catwalk looking down into the rest of the building, with was filled with old crates. Mom signaled for Helena to stay put, and then she leapt over the railing, landing on her feet directly behind the man._

 _He turned towards her, and Helena saw his face. She hadn't seen him before, and he looked incredibly ordinary and forgettable—probably a blessing in his line of work._

 _"Hello." Mom's voice was friendly. "Up to no good tonight, are we, Mr. Lewis?"_

 _Evidently, his face was familiar to Mom. He lunged toward her, but she was faster. She moved backward and her whip, coming from nowhere, caught the arm he had raised against her. He stumbled and fell to the ground. To Helena's surprise, he didn't try to untangle himself from the whip—instead, he wrapped it around his arm once more and pulled, trying to wrench it from Mom's grasp._

 _She was prepared, and let it go when he pulled. Not expecting her action, he had overcompensated the force, and fell backward. He threw the whip away from him and charged towards Mom. He threw a punch and she dodged it, kicking him in the leg. More prepared now, he barely registered it and pushed her against the wall. Mom pressed herself against it with enough force that she was able to kick him in the stomach with both of her legs._

 _Movement distracted Helena and she realized two more men were entering the room—no, three. Another man entered from another door. Helena grabbed something heavy and hard from the floor—she thought it might have been a wrench, but it was difficult to see in the dark corner of the room—and crept up behind him. She hit him just hard enough to knock him out, and he fell to the floor, immediately incapacitated._

 _Surprise, Helena had learned, was the best tactic._

 _Unfortunately, she had lost that opportunity to take on the other two men, who had heard her._

 _"I'll take the kid, you get the Catwoman!" One of the two men said._

 _The second man smiled when he saw her. It was not pleasant._

 _"The Robin, huh?" he noticed her ponytail. "I thought the Robin was a boy. This will be fun."_

I've been Robin for two years! _Helena thought peevishly._ Why is everyone still always expecting a boy _? She didn't have time for her personal annoyances, though. The man was coming on her fast, and she had to move quickly. Luckily for her, the man, while strong, was incredibly sloppy. He didn't know how to use his weight to the best advantage, and Helena knew how to use it against him. She could tell he was getting frustrated that she wasn't as easy to take out as he had expected. He was sweating hard, and his eyes looked less predatory and more furious. He pulled out a knife. and aimed for her chest._

 _Helena turned just in time, but still let out a cry of pain as the knife went through the skin. Gritting her teeth, she let the pain fuel her as she fought back. Besides, he'd just unintentionally given her a weapon. Bracing herself, she pulled the knife from her arm and lunged towards the man. It caught him in the stomach, and he stumbled back. Helena let out a gasp and held her arm. The knife wound wasn't a shallow one, but she didn't think she was in danger of bleeding out soon, either. She prepared herself to face the man again, but when she looked up, the man was fleeing, holding his stomach, and she could hear sirens in the distance._

 _Helena looked back towards her mother to find her tying up the two now-unconscious men she had been battling. "I called your father," she said. "The police will be here in momentarily. I think they'll find all three of these men are wanted by the state."_

 _When Mom saw Helena, she grabbed one of the men's shirts and ripped it, to use as a tourniquet and bandage for Helena's arm._

 _"Did you know who he was? The first man, I mean?" Helena asked, holding her arm as they walked back toward the bike._

 _"He's been on our list of suspects for a while now. He's not one of the leaders, but—" Mom held up the flashdrive—"if this is what I think it is, it will help us a lot."_

 _"I'm sorry I let the other man get away. Should we follow him?"_

 _"With you bleeding like that? Not a chance. We've done enough for tonight."_

 _"It's fine, Mom. Really."_

 _"No arguments. You're too much like your father. That arm could be falling off and you'd tell me you were fine. Besides, it's a school night."_

 _"I'm homeschooled!"_

 _"And somehow that means you are immune to the ravages of exhaustion?"_

 _Helena grumbled. "You sound like Alfred when you talk like that."_

 _Mom made a face. "That's the scariest thing anyone has ever said to me." She got on the bike and her face softened. "Get on behind me. You've done enough saving the world tonight." She smiled and put a hand on Helena's shoulder. "You did good...Robin."_

* * *

 _ **Maybe it's a little unrealistic for Selina to open up like that to someone she barely knows, but I couldn't resist giving her and Helena a conversation like that—Selina's own experience with her mother was so rocky and messed up I couldn't imagine it not affecting her own perceptions of what she'd be like as a mom.**_

 _ **Also…homeschooling seems a very good option for those who are in the vigilante business and therefore in the habit of staying out late all night. And I promise I am not saying that just because I was homeschooled and am therefore very biased :)**_


	10. Chapter 10

The offices above the lab storage room were not as dark as Helena expected. Faint glows from the electronics left her feeling exposed—and like someone was in the room. Selina was already removing the vent cover.

"Are you coming, Bertinelli?"

"Just making sure we were alone." Helena slid in behind Selina through the vent.

Helena had never been claustrophobic, but that didn't mean she wasn't uncomfortable with the physically tight space. She waited behind Selina as she unhinged the vent of the lab storage room from the inside. She heard a clang, and a moment later Selina was gone and Helena could see the opening. She climbed out to find herself in a sterile and unwelcoming holding facility, with refrigerator-like lockboxes on either side of the wall and other, more unusual holding containers scattered around the room. Selina examined one as Helena ran a gloved finger across the lockboxes until she found the right one. _329_.

"So you can crack this thing?" Selina asked, walking towards her.

"Yeah. I was working on these babies before I could drive."

"This model came out last year," Selina said.

"I learned to drive last year?" Helena offered by way of explanation.

Selina rolled her eyes. "Just hurry up."

It took Helena less than a minute to get the lockbox open. "Ah," she said. "There you are." She took out the capsule and opened it up. The stone was definitely the same type as the one that had originated from the machine. The glow even had the same tint.

There was suddenly a commotion from downstairs. An alarm blared once before shutting off, and they heard footsteps and a gunshot.

Both Helena and Selina jerked to look at each other, eyes wide.

"That's not us," Helena said, stating the obvious.

Selina flew to the other side of the room to look through the window of the door and Helena hurriedly wrapped the stone in a cloth napkin she had brought and tucked it into her jacket. She replaced the missing stone with the remains of her shattered one, just in case she was messing up the timeline by stealing it.

"It seems this place was double booked for a heist," Selina said. "There are three armed men coming this way. We need to get out of here."

"Is barging in with guns blazing really a heist, though?" Helena asked, squinting. "I think it's just breaking and entering."

"We can argue about semantics later," Selina said. " _Out_."

Both girls were up through the vents within moment and they landed with _thuds_ on the office room floor. Helena tried not to sigh with relief. She really hadn't thought they would have gotten out of there so easily.

"We're not out of this yet," Selina said, as if reading her mind.

Helena ran towards the window. That had been their escape route—down, back to the car where Bruce would be waiting. She glanced at Selina, who was swearing at the small communication device in her hand. It was something halfway between a cell phone and walkie-talkie, and Helena supposed it was an early example of the earpieces they'd all be wearing decades from now.

"I can't get through. We're on our own," Selina said.

"I bet they're jamming all signals," Helena said. "We can still get out through the window."

The door to the office flew open with a small explosion. Helena ducked on instinct. _Freaking villains_. She had left the door unlocked. Had they even checked the knob before jumping straight to explosions?

"Well, what do we have here?"

"Who are you?" Helena wrinkled her nose in disgust. She was used to villains who had flair, at least. This man looked liked he'd just rolled out of bed and strapped some guns to his side.

"How about we leave, and you don't mess with us and we don't mess with you," Selina said, backing up slowly towards Helena. "Deal?"

"Hey, Howie!" the man yelled towards the door. "We aren't the only ones after the labs tonight."

Selina gave Helena a sideways glance.

"You know these guys?" Helena asked.

Selina shook her head. "You?"

"Not a clue." Helena swallowed and spoke up towards the intruder. "I'm sure we're not after the same thing. Believe me, just let us leave and we'll leave you to your robbing."

"Well, if there's something good enough for you to take, I think it's good enough for us," the man said, as two more men entered the room.

Helena glanced around. There were no doors, only walls of windows that looked out three stories above the ground. It wasn't a high building, but still not one a girl could just…jump through and survive without injury. They were going to have to fight their way out of this one.

"Break the window," Selina muttered under her breath to Helena as her fingers inched towards the whip at her waist. "I'll hold these guys off."

"Not so fast, little one," the man said as Helena started to move backward. He lifted something from his side and Helena screamed "get down!" just in time. She and Selina dove to the side as a fireball flew from the launcher in his hands and set one of the office desks on fire.

"What the—"

Helena pulled Selina down as the man aimed at them again. Selina swore and aimed her whip at the man's wrist. It wrapped around him and she slid underneath his arm, pulling him down. The launcher fell to the ground and Helena only had time to kick it away when someone grabbed her from behind. She slid out of his grasp in a swift turn and her fist caught him underneath the chin.

They did _not_ have time for this.

The man grabbed her and in one fell swoop he'd flipped her over on the floor. She couldn't help the cry that came from her mouth; she'd come down hard. And now she was pinned underneath him, his hands around her throat. She kneed him to no avail. Struggling with her left arm, she tried to reach the knife hidden in her boot. She could hear Selina struggling against the wall on the other side of the room.

Helena's fingers reached the tip of the knife handle. She pulled it upward and jabbed it into the man's leg. He cried out and lost his balance; she used that to knock him to the floor. She pulled the knife from his leg and felt someone's presence behind her. Still on the ground, she turned to see one of the burglars, arm raised to kill, topple over with a groan to reveal— _Dad_.

Helena was breathing heavily. "Thanks," she said, as she took his offered hand to help her up and they stood back-to-back for a moment.

Of course Bruce would come in once he saw there was trouble. He wasn't one to wait behind in the car. In her peripheral vision, Helena saw Selina roundhouse kick a man in the face. Bruce caught the man as he stumbled and then punched him, making sure he wouldn't come back up once he hit the ground. Bruce tossed Selina one of the man's guns, and she used it to shatter the window. Helena shot her crossbow across to the next building.

"The car's around the back," Bruce said.

"Not a problem." Helena slid down first. Bruce had his own grappling hook and used that instead of waiting after Selina. The two of them hit the ground moments apart just as a small explosion rocked the building.

"What were they here for?" she asked as they ran.

"They weren't here to steal," Bruce said. "They were there to blow up the building."

"That doesn't make any sense!" Helena complained. Bruce didn't have time to explain anything more; footsteps sounded behind them. By now, they could hear sirens in the distance.

"It's about time," Selina muttered.

Bruce unlocked the car doors remotely and Helena dove in. He started the car and she heard a bullet ping off the trunk.

"They're shooting at us!"

"We can take it." Bruce revved the engine and sped out from behind the lab. He changed the car settings to stealth a moment later. Helena fell back against the back of the seat and pulled off her mask with a relieved laugh.

"We did it." Helena close her eyes and pressed her hand to her jacket, where the stone remained safely tucked away. " _We did it_."

"What was the deal with those guys?" Selina said. "Who were they?"

"I don't know," Bruce said. "It's something I'll need to look into. But I was watching them when they came in. They were supposed to destroy specific research on a project we're working on here." He glanced at Helena. "Maybe that's what Strange was after, rather than the stone."

"I wouldn't put my money on Strange," Helena said. _Considering I made the whole story up_. "But I think we slowed them down enough before the cops got there, so I think the whole situation was not nearly as bad as it could have been."

"We all almost died, so…" Selina reminded them.

Bruce laughed, and Helena realized with a start it was the first genuine one she'd heard from him since she'd been here. He'd smiled, but never laughed.

"We've been in much worse, Cat." He grinned. "Besides, you loved every minute of it."

Selina smirked at him, and for that moment, Helena felt that all was right with the world.


	11. Chapter 11

"I take it your efforts were successful?" Alfred asked as they entered. He already knew the answer, of course, by the smiles on their faces.

"I got it," Helena said, looking at him and barely being able to contain her enthusiasm. "I got it, Alfred."

"Very good, Miss Bertinelli." He nodded at her, but his look said much more. She was going home, and time would go back to normal.

"Do you have anything to eat around here?" Selina asked, taking off her coat. "I'm starved."

"There's left over spaghetti in the kitchen, Miss Kyle," Alfred answered. "I had a feeling you would be hungry."

"Thanks." Selina patted his arm as she walked by. "I promise I won't make too much of a mess."

Alfred sighed and looked upward before glancing at Helena as if to ask _do I really have to put up with this for the next thirty years?_

Helena smiled at him impishly. "I think I could use some of that spaghetti too, Alfred."

"Go right ahead."

Helena turned. "Bruce?"

"I'm not hungry, but I'll join you anyway."

Thus Helena found herself leaning over a bowl of hot noodles, mopping up the sauce with garlic bread as she laughed with her parents.

"You've got really good aim with that crossbow," Selina said. "How long have you been using it?"

"Well, my dad has this friend whose an archer, and as joke he got me a bow and arrow for my birthday when I was little. I just took to it, I guess, and started exploring my options. One of my brothers had an old crossbow lying around that I found when I was about ten. I've been using it ever since. But you guys are amazing," Helena couldn't help but gush a little bit. Their skills were nowhere near the caliber they'd be one day (Helena, with all her training, had already far advanced beyond them by that age), but they were still impressive, considering their ages and upbringing.

" _She's_ amazing," Bruce corrected. "I just throw a few punches here and there. It's not that impressive. Anyone could do it."

"Nobody else _would_ , you numbskull," Selina said, pushing his arm teasingly. Helena covered a snort with her hand.

Bruce addressed Helena again. "I guess you'll be leaving soon, then?"

"Yeah." Helena looked out of the kitchen window and tried not to yawn.

"We should all probably get some rest," Selina said. She raised her head to see over the counter. "Is that pie over there?"

"Alfred said it was chocolate cream, and that you could dig right in, Selina," Bruce said.

"Alfred is getting to know me too well," Selina said, cutting herself a piece. "And it's starting to freak me out." She took her piece and left the kitchen. "Those stools are too hard," she said over her shoulder.

Helena looked at Bruce and gave an exaggerated shrug before taking her piece of pie and following Selina towards the study, where her mother sat cross-legged on the couch, her plate of pie in her lap. Helena sat across for her and hadn't realized they they'd both gotten into the same position until she'd finished her plate. She yawned, but Bruce and Selina were still talking, and she didn't feel like it was the right moment to leave yet. She had a feeling they were expecting her to at least stay the night, considering the hour. She yawned again and, putting her plate down on the coffee table, snuggled deeper into the couch. Just a small nap, she figured, so she'd have a clear head when it came time to fix the machine…

* * *

Helena's eyes fluttered open just as a few rays of early sunshine were peeking past the curtains. Her neck felt stiff from the couch, and she sat up to stretch. She looked across the room. Bruce was still asleep, his long legs stretched out on the ottoman, while his arm rested lazily around Selina's shoulder. She'd fallen asleep against his chest, and her face looked more peaceful than Helena had seen it since coming back to this time.

It was enough to make Helena smile. In a small, strange way, she was going to miss these versions of her parents. And now, watching them, she was certain that everything would turn out right in the end.

She rose slowly as not to wake them. They needed their rest after last night. But she—well, it was time enough she went home.

She crept slowly up the stairs and began gathering her things. She heard footsteps and turned to see Alfred in the doorway.

"Getting ready to leave?" he asked.

"It's time." She pulled out her bookbag and found the device. Taking a deep breath, she opened it up.

"Here." Alfred handed her a pair of tongs. "I thought you might want to use these."

She gratefully took them to replace the stone. As soon as she shut the device's window, the screen lit up. She let loose a sigh of relief. "It's on." She turned to Alfred, unable to hide her smile. "I'm going home."

"I supposed this isn't goodbye then, Miss Helena," Alfred said kindly. "We'll see each other again soon."

"But not too soon," Helena said, her eyes twinkling.

Alfred laughed, but a thought entered Helena's head that sobered her.

"Before I leave…I need you to do something for me," she said. She took another deep breath. "You've watched over my father all his life, and even more so since…since my grandparents died."

"And I always will," Alfred said.

"That's just the thing," Helena said. "I'm going to need you to _stop_. Something is going to happen and…and you're going to have to leave him. Because he's not the one who will need you the most."

Alfred's brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"You're going to have to protect her, Alfred. My mother. She's going to need you. And I know you don't get along with her now, but one day you'll love her the way you do my father and...I can't stop what's going to happen, but if I can make it easier for her…" Helena didn't know what she should say and what she shouldn't anymore. "I can't say anything else. But please, promise me you'll be there for _both_ of them when they need you. Don't leave her alone."

"Of course." Alfred's frown was so worried Helena almost regretted telling him. But not enough to wish she hadn't.

Helena set down the device and hugged him quickly and tightly. "I love you, Alfred. I'll see you before you see me, I guess."

"Get home safely, Miss Helena," he whispered. "I look forward to meeting you one day."

Helena smiled. "Just so long as you're not expecting much in the way of conversation those first couple of years. It takes me awhile to grasp the finer points of conversation."

"Just so long as you exist in the first place," Alfred said. "That's what matters now."

Helena felt warmed by those words. Her Alfred loved her like a granddaughter, but that Alfred had seen her grow up. He'd been there when she'd been born. To the man standing in front of her she was a stranger, but he was still just as willing to have her back.

She swallowed and picked up the machine. She'd strapped on her backpack and flung the duffel bag over her shoulder. A worried laugh escaped her. "I feel like I should be clicking my heels three times right now." Knowing she was procrastinating in her nervousness, she steeled herself for the ride. If this worked, she was minutes away from being home. "Here goes."

She twisted the handle, and the world exploded into color.


	12. Chapter 12

Helena opened her eyes and found herself face down on the floor. She groaned and sat up, holding her head. She picked up the device gingerly and removed the handle—she didn't want any more accidents—and then slowly stood up. She was still in her room, of course, but…it looked like _her_ room. Trying to ignore her headache she snatched the calendar—her calendar!—from the wall and almost cried when she saw the date. She was back.

She skidded to the framed photo on her desk, the one they'd taken last Christmas when they'd managed to get the whole family under the same roof for once. There they were. Mom. Dad. Dick. Jason. Tim. Damian. Cass. Alfred. _They're here_. "I'm back. I'm back!"

Her door was open and she heard a familiar pattering down the hall. She flew across the room and pounced. "Ace!" she squealed. She leaned down to pet him enthusiastically. "You're such a good boy, aren't you, darling? Oh, it's so good to see you!" She kissed the dog's fur before standing up and racing down the stairs.

"The chandelier is gone!" she shrieked. "The chandelier is gone because _Dick broke it_!" She laughed.

"Of course it's broken," her father said, looking at her in confusion as he came out of the study. "It's been broken for the past twenty-five years. What are you— _umph_!"

Helena cut him off by leaping into his arms for a hug. He stepped backward at the force of her embrace.

"I'm back! I'm back, and I missed you so much." She looked up into his face and laughed. "Gosh, you've got a lot of gray. It's nice. I missed it. You don't look like you without it."

"Yes, you're back," Dad said, still bewildered. "You've been gone less than an hour. Where's the car?"

"Wait—what?"

"I didn't see the car pull in." His brow furrowed. "Helena, don't tell me you got into another accident."

"What? No! Dad…I've been gone for…did you say less than an hour?" She tried to wrap her head around the fact. She'd automatically assumed that the machine would have sent her thirty years into the future…which meant the same amount of time would have passed in the present as it had for her in the past. But looking at the clock, it appeared that it had only been minutes since she found the device in the first place. "Dad, I've been gone for _days_."

He didn't get chance to respond.

"You're back soon. Did you find everything you were looking for?"

"Mom!" Helena felt like she was five years old again, seeing her parents for the first time after they'd been away on a trip. She fled from her father into her mother's arms.

"Yeah, I missed you too." Mom said dryly as she patted her back. She looked over Helena's shoulder to give Dad a funny look. "What's going on? Did I miss something here?"

"She said she was gone for days. Helena, what happened? Are you all right?"

"'Lena?" Mom asked. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing…nothing's wrong, not anymore. I just…I'm so glad you're you. I missed you…And _you freaking drugged me_!" Helena remembered with a shriek, pulling back from her mother's arms and looking at her with a sort of amused disbelief.

"What?"

"You drugged me." Helena's hands were gripped on her mother's shoulders. "I came to you for help and I offered to _pay you_ , and you drugged me and then ratted me out to dad," she pointed to her father. She was _this close_ to laughing hysterically from the absurdity of it all.

The strangest look came over Mom's face, and Helena realized she was starting to put the pieces together. "No."

Helena waited.

"No," her mother repeated. "That was _you_?"

"Well…"

"Oh, baby." Mom pulled her to close to her and then gave a sort of strangled laugh. "How in the world—?"

"I accidentally triggered a time machine. It was not fun. Well," Helena added on second thought, "maybe it was a little fun." She turned to look at her dad. "Did you guys ever find out what research those guys were trying to destroy over at the labs?"

Her dad looked like someone had just tasered him. "Bertinelli?"

"I mean, you knew it wasn't my real name even then," Helena looked at him a little sheepishly, even though she couldn't help her smile. "It wasn't like I could just tell you who I was."

In two steps, Dad had her and her mom in an embrace. "I'm so sorry, Helena. I didn't know."

"Oh, come on, Dad. How on earth could you know?" Although, Helena did wonder that it never occurred to them how similar she looked to that girl they'd met so long ago. Then again, it had been years, and she was certain the events that followed her visit had eclipsed her adventure with them entirely.

Well, maybe not entirely.

"So…I'm wonderful, huh?" Mom glanced at Helena with a small smirk on her face.

"Ugh." Helena buried her face in her mom's shoulder. "I can't believe you remember that."

"No, Helena. It was…sweet."

"I just wanted you to know." Helena said, finding it hard it to express. She'd never been good at explaining her feelings. "Because you really believed that, and I didn't want you to."

"What's this?" Dad asked.

"Just a conversation Helena and I had on the roof the night we broke into the lab. I must admit, I did wonder why a strange girl seemed so insistent on convincing me I would make a good mother one day. That was a little risky, Kitten."

"I know," Helena said. "But what else was I supposed to do when you kept insisting on insulting yourself?"

"How did we not figure it out?" Dad wondered aloud. "You look just like your mother at that age."

"Well, and just enough like you to _really_ freak Alfred out." Her eyes widened. "Oh my gosh. _Alfred_!" She yelped. "Where's Alfred?"

"I think he's in the kitchen—" Dad began. "Wait, he _knew_?"

But Helena was already flying down the hall.

"Alfred!" she yelled for him, running so fast she accidentally hurtled into the opened kitchen door. " _Umph_. I'm back!"

Alfred was pulling something from the oven. "Just in time, Miss Helena. Did you find a present for Master Jason or…" he turned to look at her. "Have we made a much longer journey, then?"

"Longer, Alfred. But not as long as you. I took the shortcut. You took the long way around."

"That I did. But it was a good journey, I must say. Even with its trials." He set the baking tray down and Helena hugged him.

"I can't believe you kept that secret for so long. Did you ever wonder if I'd accidentally messed things up and wouldn't exist?"

"Every day until the morning your mother came down stairs into the kitchen, smelled the onion soup on the stove, and flew to the toilet. Then I gave a sigh of relief knowing that you would be joining the family soon."

Helena laughed. "That's awful, Alfred," she said, as she heard the footsteps of her parents coming to join them, probably bringing with them more questions.

"But I was right," he said. "Incidentally, I made no small amount of money on betting you were going to be a girl."

"I'm glad I proved to be so profitable," Helena's face was beginning to hurt from all of the grinning she was doing, a grin that only grew wider when she saw just what Alfred had removed from the oven.

"Now," he said moving the baking tray from the stove to the island, "I believe I had a thirty-one-year-old promise for oatmeal cookies to fulfill?"

 _The End_

* * *

 ** _* "How did Alfred know when Helena would be back?" you ask. "Alfred knows everything," I reply._**

 ** _And…it's done! This story has been a long time coming- I first thought of it over a year and a half ago but put off writing it because I wasn't sure when during Gotham it should take place (plus, I've only ever written two other pieces of fanfic, and that was over two years ago). Then Season 4 happened and I thought "Yep. It happens now-I better write this now or never." However, because I'd been thinking about Flashback for so long, it went through a LOT of story changes—including some plot points and scenes I'm really sad didn't work out in the end. HOWEVER- that leads me to a question for you guys. Would y'all be interested in an extra bonus chapter that's sort of an alternate scene where Bruce and Selina find out who Helena is? Ultimately I didn't think it would work in the story because I couldn't see how that wouldn't affect the future or their current relationship, but it is kind of a satisfying scene to write, you know? Anyway, if any of you guys are interested, I can totally write that up and post it at some point._**

 ** _Anyway, thank you all so much for your kind comments! I really enjoyed writing this story and I'm glad you guys seemed to like it, too. :D Much love and God bless!_**


	13. Chapter 13

_**Here it is! For context, this alternate scene would have taken place in Chapter Three, when Helena comes to ask for Selina's help. And…it ended up being a lot longer than planned. Oh well. I guess I just needed to write it as therapy to deal with my anger issues with DC right now. #justletbrucewaynebehappy2018**_

* * *

A part of Selina told her it was a very bad idea to call Bruce. The other part told her it was the only reasonable thing to do. The trouble was, she couldn't decide which side was her brain speaking, and the other side her feelings. When it came to Bruce, sometimes those two were difficult to differentiate between.

She picked up the phone to call. "Hey, B?"

"Selina?" He sounded surprised.

"You know the girl we ran into last night? She just found my apartment and tried to hire me to lift something from your labs."

"What?"

"I drugged her. She's unconscious on the couch right now, but she's not going to be happy when she wakes up."

"I'm already in the area," Bruce answered. "I'll be there in five minutes."

Selina didn't ask how he knew where she lived, even though she'd never told him. Bruce generally kept pretty good tabs on her, despite the fact that she found it annoying. She didn't ask what he was doing in the area, either, although she wondered if he was already on his way to see her to talk about what had happened the other night.

Grabbing some rope from the kitchen, she turned the girl over to tie her wrists together and then propped her up against the couch. There was a knock at the door.

"Selina?" It was Bruce.

He must have been _very_ close, she thought. "Come in." Selina was already sliding her fingers along the lining of the girl's jacket to see what she had on her. She pulled out a wallet.

"She looks a lot younger than I thought last night," Bruce said, shutting the front door and coming closer. "She disguised herself as a janitorial worker yesterday to get into the Wayne Enterprises building, but I guess I hadn't paid close enough attention to her."

"She said she wanted to hire me to steal a "glowing purple stone" from Wayne Labs," Selina said. "That would be weird enough, but something is off about this girl. I don't like it."

"Did she give a name?"

"No, but, I think I'll have it in a second." Selina whipped out the girl's wallet. "I found this." She opened it. "Here we go. Helena…"she stopped, and Bruce waited.

"Helena Wayne." Selina's voice ended in a question, and she glanced back to the girl on her couch. "Is she related to you?"

"What? No. Can I see?"

Selina handed the wallet to Bruce and then leaned down so her face was level with the girl's. She squinted her eyes, looking for a resemblance. Of course, she knew there were other people in the world with the last name of Wayne. It just seemed like an odd coincidence. And as she looked there _was_ something about her that reminded her of Bruce. It was subtle, but there.

"This can't be right."

Selina turned to see Bruce frowning at the driver's license. "Did you look at the date? It's all wrong. According to this, she's not even born yet. And the date of issue is almost thirty years from now."

"Why would anyone create a fake ID with the wrong date?"

"That's just it," Bruce said, holding the licence up to the light and examining it. "I don't think it's fake."

"So, what, she's like your daughter from the future or something?" Selina joked. She looked over Bruce's shoulder and her face lost its humor. "Her middle name is Martha," she said, looking at the license again. "That was your mom's name, wasn't it?"

"I know you were just joking," Bruce began, "But…"

"Oh, come on, B," Selina said, moving away from him and trying to blow it off, even though she was uncomfortable for reasons she couldn't quite articulate. "Time travel? That's a stretch, even for Gotham. Besides, if she's your daughter, why'd she come to _me_?"

Bruce was silent.

"B?"

But he was staring at something else he'd taken from the girl's wallet, something he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from. Slowly, without looking up at her, he handed it to Selina.

It was a photograph. As she looked at it, the world swam around her and she reached for a chair. She swore and sat down hard, her feet feeling unsteady beneath her. It was at that moment she realized why she'd begun to feel unsettled those moments before. Somehow, her body seemed to have known who the girl was before her head did.

The picture was an old one—at least it appeared that way due to its foxed edges and the slight crease in the lower left corner. It was a picture of a curly-haired girl, cheeks full of air as she prepared to blow out six candles on a birthday cake. Though Selina couldn't be positive, by resemblance alone she would have guessed that it was the same girl who was now lying on Selina's couch. But that wasn't what had caused her head to go dizzy and her steps to falter; no, that reaction was due to the woman behind the girl, grinning widely and giving the girl a loving squeeze. The woman might have been older, her hair a little shorter, and her clothes something other than black, but she was definitely, undeniably _Selina_.

And the background was unmistakably the kitchen at Wayne Manor.

"She looks more like you than she does like me," Bruce said, staring at the girl on the couch. He'd sat down, too. He seemed to be handling the whole situation marginally better than Selina, but he still looked shell-shocked.

Selina could have overlooked any resemblance in the girl on the couch—she really couldn't see it that much—but the girl in the photo? She looked so strikingly like the lone picture Selina had of herself as a child that she could have almost thought the six-year-old was her, if the older woman's identity wasn't already so obvious.

She looked back at the couch. The girl's head of wild curls would have been exactly like Selina's had they not been several shades darker. Her mouth and bone structure, Selina realized, was much like her own, but as Selina thought about it, she realized just why the girl had disturbed her so much.

"When she was talking…" Selina began. "Her facial expressions…they were all _you_." That's what had felt so off about the girl. She felt like she'd known the girl already, even though she hadn't.

Selina ran a hand through her hair and tried to breathe. "So…in the future…we have a kid," she said, trying to wrap her head around it. "And that's _her_."

"Unless we've completely misread the situation," Bruce said. "Which is entirely possible due to the very implausibility of this whole state of affairs."

"Can you please talk like a normal human being for, like, five seconds, Bruce?" Selina asked. "How are you not freaking out? I'm freaking out. I'm trying not to freak out."

"What is there to freak out about?"

"I don't know. The fact that I'm nineteen years old and just found out that I have a daughter who's probably older than I am right now."

"Well, so do I."

"Exactly! I have a daughter with _you_!"

Bruce looked at the photo again, his eyes zeroing in on the ring on Selina's finger. "Would this not be a good time to tell you that we're married?"

Selina rolled her eyes heavenward and took a deep breath. "I'm not sure if that makes me feel better or worse." She glanced at Bruce to see a ghost of a smile on his face.

"What?"

"It's just gratifying to know you said "yes."

"Oh, shut up." She whacked him on the arm and rolled her eyes, turning so he wouldn't see that she was (ridiculous as it was, she admitted) smiling. She shouldn't be. The whole thing couldn't be real. People like him didn't marry people like her. And if they did, it never lasted. Girls like her didn't get happy endings.

And to be honest, she wasn't sure guys like Bruce ended up getting them, either. Tragedy seemed to follow him wherever he went.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?" Bruce said quietly. Selina suddenly had a vision of Bruce as a dad, the kind whose daughter had him completely wrapped around her little finger. It wasn't a bad look for him, and Selina didn't like the way her heart softened at the idea. She was certain that thoughts like that couldn't end up doing any good, even if the girl in front of them did seem to be evidence that she—that she and Bruce— _darn it_. The girl on the couch stirred and Selina leapt backward and scrambled away like a true cat.

Bruce remained unmoved and continued to stare at the girl as she woke up.

The girl—Helena—struggled to sit up and blinked a few times. "Hey!" she said. "What is this? How—?"

Her eyes widened when she saw her wallet on the table, dumped of its contents. "Oh no. _No no no no no_. You took my stuff. You can't look at that!"

"Yeah, I think it's too late for that," Selina said. "Care to explain?"

The girl bit her lip and looked between Bruce and Selina, as if unsure what all they knew. "What do you…can I have my wallet back?" Selina realized Helena had worked her wrists out of her bonds when she moved her hands forward to reach for her things. Selina handed her the wallet, the photo and license stacked atop it.

"Were these all that you saw?" the girl asked.

"There's _more_?" Selina asked in disbelief.

"So your name is Helena," Bruce said. "And you're…"

"…from the future," Helena finished.

"I don't think that's the confession he was looking for," Selina mumbled.

"What proof do you have?" Bruce asked, not unkindly, but firmly. _Like he was talking to a child_ , Selina thought.

The girl swallowed. "If I am from the future, won't I wreck it if I start telling you things that are going to happen?" She looked to Selina and then back at Bruce. "What other proof can I have other than this?" she held up her license. She sighed and ran her hands over her face. "This is not how I rehearsed this conversation." She looked accusingly at Selina. "I can't believe you _drugged_ me."

"You shouldn't trust strangers, kid." The _kid_ came out too easily.

"Well I wasn't expecting my own—" Helena stopped.

"Your own _what_?" Selina asked, daring her to finish the sentence. She felt her breath hitch and she didn't exhale until Helena answered.

"My own mother." Helena finished reluctantly. "Don't tell me you didn't already figure it out. I know you're both smarter than that."

"That doesn't make you saying it any less shocking," Bruce admitted.

Helena groaned and buried her face in the couch cushions. "And now you're thoroughly weirded out and can't even look at each other and I'll end up not existing at all because I was stupid."

"Hey," Bruce hesitated a moment and then sat on the couch and patted her shoulder. "Hey. I'm sure you'll be fine."

Selina wanted to snort in derision, but she couldn't. Something had twisted inside her when Helena had buried her face, and when the girl looked up and Selina realized there were _tear tracks_ of all things on the girl's cheeks, and that there were more tears welling up in eyes _exactly like Bruce's_ , she knew she was done for.

"Don't…don't cry." Selina said awkwardly. She moved closer to the girl and sat down slowly, unsure what she was supposed to do. She wasn't supposed to actually act like a parent, was she? But as soon as she got close enough, Helena buried her face in Selina's shoulder and began to sniffle back tears. Selina didn't have to act parental, suddenly she just _was_.

"Hey, hey." Selina's arms tightened around the girl. "It's going to be fine. We'll get you back home somehow, okay?"

"I'm sorry for crying," the girl moved back and wiped her eyes. "That's not a great first impression, is it? I've just been here for _days_ and it's been kind of miserable."

"How did you get here?" Bruce asked.

Helena cleared her throat and explained. "I accidentally triggered a time machine. Of course, I didn't know that's what it was when I picked it up. When I came through, the machine broke. I need a new power source, and the only thing I can find that might work is that stone you've got in the lab."

"But you don't know if that will work or not?" Bruce asked.

Helena shook her head. "It's the best I've got, though."

"Well, we'll help you get it either way. And if that doesn't work, we won't stop until you're back home safely. Right, Selina?"

Selina nodded, not sure she could trust her voice.

Helena wiped her eyes quickly. "Could I use your bathroom?"

"Yeah." Selina pointed. "It's right through that door." Both of them knew she didn't really need to use it; she just thought Selina and Bruce needed a moment. She was right.

Selina slumped into the couch. "Bruce?" she said quietly and glanced at him. "What does this mean?"

"For us, you mean?"

Selina took back the wallet, which was balancing on the armrest of the couch. Helena had left it when she'd gone to the bathroom. She examined the photo again.

"I look so happy," Selina whispered.

"Maybe that's what it means," Bruce said softly.

"That we're going to be happy?"

Bruce's hand moved towards hers tentatively, his fingers touching hers. "Happy...together."

And as her fingers intertwined with his, for the first time Selina let herself believe it was possible.


End file.
